NurseyDex Oneshots
by benjji2795
Summary: A collection of NurseyDex (Derek 'Nursey' Nurse/William 'Dex' Poindexter) oneshot fics (from Ngozi's webcomic, Check, Please!). Each chapter is a oneshot and contains its summary.
1. Tell the World (That We Finally Got it)

**Summary:** _In the end, when it comes down to it, Dex will always choose Nursey over his listening to his fears._

* * *

 _Characters from Ngozi's webcomic,_ Check, Please!

 _Title from the Sara Bareilles song,_ I Choose You _._

 _Shoutout to dazeli*tumblr*com for beta-ing this :)_

 _Note: This fic takes place in the Fall 2015 (the first semester of Bitty's junior year)_

 _Originally posted on as an individual fic, but now moved to this combined oneshot fic posting_

* * *

Derek knew what he was getting into all those months ago when he kissed Dex, and Dex kissed back, and they started—well Dex really wasn't calling it dating, but that's definitely what they were doing. Of course they were doing it secretly; Dex was terrified that if they didn't keep it secret, someone he knew or someone who knew his family would see and word would somehow get back to them ("They can't know about me, _ever_ ," Dex had said with a small, timid voice into Derek's chest). So they snuck around, stealing short kisses in the Haus bathroom, holding hands under the table, and only ever getting to be openly affectionate in the privacy of their shared apartment. And they were keeping it all under wraps quite well—up until that afternoon.

* * *

They were supposed to be alone. Bitty, Ransom and Holster were in class and Chowder was out on a coffee date with Farmer. Derek had thought it would be perfectly safe to sneak in a few minutes of making out on the Haus couch before they had to head off to their classes. He had his hands under Dex's shirt, busy memorizing the feeling of Dex's well-defined torso under his fingers, and Dex had his hands in Derek's hair, tugging at the strands gently, when they were startled to hear a small squeak. They both scrambled to get off each other, but too entwined, ending up on the floor as they tried to untangle their bodies. Derek eventually got free and stood up, turning around just in time to see Chowder bolting up the stairs.

"Chowder wait," Derek called coolly, as he offered Dex his hand, pulling him to his feet. "You okay?" he asked softly, wondering why Dex's face was so pale, rather than burning a brilliant red.

Dex nodded mutely, pulling his hand from Derek's instantly once he was steady on his feet, like the contact was burning him. Avoiding his eyes, Dex brushed past him, his shoulders hunched over and his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides. He was gone and out, slamming the front door before Derek could say anything else.

As much as Derek wanted to run after him, he knew he shouldn't do that without talking to Chowder first, so he went up the stairs instead, knocking on his door.

"I'm so sorry Nursey I didn't know you were here and I totally didn't mean to walk in on you guys—" Chowder blurted out in a rush before the door was even completely open.

"It's chill C," Derek said, cutting his ramble off as he walked into the room and sat down on Chowder's bed. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organize his scrambled thoughts and figure out how to handle this so that Dex wouldn't freak out any more than he already was (while being quite off-balance himself).

"I had no idea you guys were hooking up and I really didn't mean—"

"We're not just hooking up," Derek snapped in irritation. They weren't hooking up and even if that's how it started, that's never what it really was about for either of them, even if Dex didn't really say it. "We're actually dating—have been for a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Dex doesn't want anyone to know. His family isn't…" Derek said, trailing off.

"Oh," Chowder said simply.

"You know you can't tell anyone, right?"

"I won't, promise."

"Thanks, C," Derek said, standing up and taking a deep breath before heading back down the stairs. Dex was probably already in class and Derek knew he needed to get to his. He'd have to wait to talk to Dex until after. Sighing, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, pulled on his beanie, shoved his hands in his pockets, and headed out.

* * *

Now that it was after class, Derek immediately went to their apartment, since they normally had dinner there, just the two of them, before heading back to the Haus for the evening. Instead of being met by Dex (who was usually back before him), Derek was met only by quiet and an eerily empty living room.

"Dex?" he called out cautiously a few times, wandering to check their bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen. He was unnervingly met with silence and an unoccupied room each time. Derek sighed and decided to head to the Haus now (texting Dex as he walked). Dex may have gone there—to talk to Chowder, to get some comfort baked goods from Bitty, to—likely avoid Derek. Dex probably wanted to pretend that nothing ever happened, but they couldn't do that. Not when Chowder knew about them and there was a chance he might blow their secret (not on purpose, of course, the sweet kid just wasn't good at keeping his mouth shut) at any second.

As he stepped into the Haus, the only person in sight was Bitty, in the kitchen, baking something that smelled wonderful, like cinnamon and vanilla and—was that maple? Derek briefly wondered as he ascended the stairs if that meant Jack would be visiting soon, or if it was more because Bitty missed Jack.

"Hey C," Derek said, poking his head into Chowder's room when he reached the top of the steps. "You seen Dex since earlier?"

"Oh hey Nursey!" Chowder said, sounding incredibly enthusiastic about Derek coming by (but that was just the way he always was), before toning it down as much as was possible for him to answer. "Uh, no I haven't. Why?"

"Great," Derek muttered as he sat down on the edge of Chowder's bed. "I haven't seen him either and he's not answering my texts. I—I think he's avoiding me."

"Maybe he just needs some time," Chowder suggested eagerly. His cheerful tone was grating, even if Derek knew it was simply meant to help make him feel better.

Derek exhaled softly. "I guess…but he's never needed this much time before."

"Oh. Well I'm sure it doesn't mean anything and it'll be fine. He's probably not going to br—" Chowder paused before continuing. "Wait no I shouldn't say that, never mind."

Derek's heart skipped a beat at Chowder's almost-words; it's not like he hadn't considered that possibility himself—briefly, and then pushing the thought away before he lost his chill during class.

"It's—it's fine," Derek said weakly. "I—I think I'm gonna go look for him."

"Good luck! And I'll uh—" Chowder hesitated for a moment, looking as if he was considering whether he should say what he was planning to. "I'll be here if you need to—well, to talk."

"Thanks C," Derek mumbled, ignoring the way his stomach was churned at the implication behind Chowder's statement.

He wandered slowly in the crisp fall air, taking his time despite the night chill that was settling over Samwell as the sun set. He can't say that he hadn't spent some part of the afternoon wondering what the fallout from all this would be, and had always ended up circling back to the same, devastating conclusion (that he then desperately tried to forget). A conclusion that he was now trying to delay for as long as possible.

His wandering eventually led him to Faber (if Derek was in any better spirits, he would've laughed at himself— _what "Jack Zimmermann" thing to do_ , he thought). He sat down on the bench and stared out at the smooth, glassy surface of the ice, trying (and mostly failing) to think about anything other than Dex or that afternoon or what might be coming later. So caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't notice when Dex sat next to him.

"You just gonna stare at the ice all night, or you wanna tell me what's going through that big head of yours?" Dex chirped, knocking their shoulders together.

"You've been avoiding me since…" Derek answered quietly, trailing off at the end, resisting the urge to grab Dex's hand, to twine their fingers together, to put his head on Dex's shoulder, to be in contact with Dex in any way, even though, if this went the way he had been thinking on and off all afternoon that it might, it might be his last chance to do anything like that.

"Yeah," Dex frowned. "I had sorta planned to still be doing that, but when I went to the Haus, Chowder may have flashed me his sad eyes."

"I don't think there's anyone on this planet that can resist those," Derek snorted.

Dex murmured in agreement before a long silence fell over them, only the hum of the rink's climate control system, Dex's deep, slow breaths and Derek's short, anxious pants could be heard in the vast emptiness of the arena. It was agony waiting for Dex to speak up. He was nervous—terrified even, completely unchill in a way he usually only ever got before big hockey games. It was too much, waiting for the gavel to fall on its own.

"Dex," Derek said pleadingly. "If you're going to—just do it please. Don't try and spare my feelings. I'll get over it, you know?"

"What the hell are you talking about Nurse?" Dex asked, squinting at him in confusion.

"If you're going to," Derek repeated. "B-break up with me—"

"Shut the fuck up Nursey, that's not what I'm doing," Dex quipped, throwing an arm around Derek's shoulder and laying the other on top of his hand. Derek was fairly certain he hadn't ever felt that relieved before in his life, breathing out a huge sigh. "Wait, you really thought I was going to break up with you?"

Derek's initial reaction was to say that it was chill, that he really wasn't worried, but when it came to him and Dex, Derek was never chill anymore.

"Maybe," was what he decided to reply with, looking down at their hands.

"Look, I know I didn't react very well to getting caught, but I kinda love you, idiot," Dex said, shaking his head fondly. "The thought never really crossed my mind."

"I love you too," Derek grinned. "But dude, how dare you say that for the first time when I can't kiss you," he added indignantly. Sure there was no one around, but nothing about their "rule" had changed, or at least, he didn't think so. Sure, Dex had his arm around him, but it wasn't anything that couldn't easily be written off as a bro-touch (that _was_ the "rule").

"Who says you can't?"

"Well, we're definitely in Faber, and even if there's no one else around, there's still a chance that someone could—" Derek reasoned, wondering why Dex was doing this, when he was the one who cared so much about their rule (he only ever went along with it for Dex's sake, not because he liked the rule). He didn't get much farther into his reasoning though, as he was interrupted by Dex's lips.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking since this afternoon and maybe—no not maybe, I _definitely_ need to stop being so fucking scared all time," Dex sighed, pulling Derek closer in to his side.

"It's chill Dex, I get it," Derek shrugged. "Coming out is rough."

"Yeah, but like—it's probably time, you know? We've been dating for a while and I don't see that changing soon, so I—we should probably tell the guys—they're not gonna care. And you've been so patient and—"

"You don't have to do anything for me, if you're not ready."

"I don't know that I'll ever really be ready, so I'm just going to do it."

"Whatever you want to do, I'll be here for you," Derek said, flipping his hand palm up so they could lace their fingers together.

* * *

It turned out Bitty was baking a maple-crusted apple pie because Jack (and Shitty) _were_ visiting—that very weekend actually. The whole hockey team was having dinner Saturday night and, despite being nervous about telling so many people at once, Dex decided that would be the right—well maybe not _right_ , but the _best_ time to tell the team.

They had it planned out; it wasn't going to be anything huge. It was going to be more like dropping (super) obvious hints rather than flat-out telling anyone, doing things like quick kisses, some hand holding, and light cuddling over the course of the evening. Dex didn't actually have to say anything to anyone, other than maybe a "yes" if someone asked him if they were dating. "It's the easiest (and least terrifying) way for me to do it," Dex had said.

So, naturally, he was sitting on the floor of their bedroom, knees pulled up tightly to his chest as he hyperventilated, right on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack a mere five minutes from when they had to leave for the Haus. Just because it was the least scary way to do it, didn't mean that it wasn't immensely frightening.

"Dex, man, you have to breathe," Derek said, rubbing his back gently while he sat. Dex took a shaky breath, his chest feeling so tight that the air was forced right back out. "Will, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," Derek added sympathetically (he only used his first name to emphasize to Dex how serious he was about something he was saying).

"Nurse," Dex croaked. "Please don't say anything to talk me out of this. Yeah, I'm terrified, but I really want to do this."

"Will—"

"Stop. We're doing this, _Derek_ ," Dex interrupted, his tone a little sharper than he meant for it be. But Derek just chuckled.

"We don't butt heads very often anymore…I was beginning to forget just how _stubborn_ you are," Derek said fondly.

"Glad I could remind you," Dex murmured, taking a deep breath and then standing up. Derek rose to his feet as well, pulling Dex into his arms before he could go anywhere.

"Hey," he said softly. "This—it means a lot to me."

"Please don't get all mushy on me," Dex mumbled, lacking any real heat or discouragement behind his words.

"Too bad," Derek grinned. "Even if we don't do anything tonight—"

" _We are_ , stop saying that—"

"It really means a shit-ton that you're trying. I love you," Derek continued, pausing for a moment to admire the dark crimson blush on Dex's face before kissing him softly.

"I love you too," Dex said quietly, nuzzling his head into the crook of Derek's neck for a brief second. Derek was caught off-guard by the naked emotion evident in the gesture, but the moment was over almost as quickly as it started. "We have to get going, Bitty will kill us if we're late."

They disentangled and walked to the front door, Dex pausing to hold out his hand for Derek to grab. He twined their fingers together, gently pulling Dex out the door, enjoying the little flip-flops his stomach was doing as he walked out in public, holding hands with his boyfriend.

When they first left, Dex was quite relaxed, but the closer to the Haus they got, the tenser he seemed to be getting. Derek could see his shoulders inching up and Dex's hand gripping his a bit tighter, color draining from his face.

"It'll be chi—okay," Derek said (stopping himself before saying _chill_ ; now wasn't the time for that), pausing on the Haus porch, grabbing Dex's shoulder and pulling him so they were face to face.

"Yeah," Dex nodded, his voice almost inaudible.

Derek quickly pecked his cheek, and then they stepped into the Haus. Dex had his hand in a vise-like grip, almost to the point of being painful, but Derek ignored it—whatever Dex needed to feel more comfortable.

"Hey!" Bitty said brightly, stepping out of the kitchen to greet them. Bitty seemed happy—well he was almost always happy, but this was on a different level. His smile was so wide it seemed his face might split in half. "I wasn't sure if y'all would make it. I mean you're almost ten minutes late."

"Sorry Bits," Derek shrugged. Or at least tried to. Their intertwined hands meant that only one of his shoulders really completed the gesture, drawing Bitty's attention. He blinked, looking back and forth between them, and his grin, somehow, got wider.

"Good for you two," he said, hugging them both briefly before returning to his oven. Dex's face went from pale white to scarlet in a matter of milliseconds, even as a small grin flashed across his lips. As they moved towards the living room, Derek stole a glance through the doorway to where Bitty stood with Jack directly behind him, his hands on Bitty's hips and his face buried into the top of Bitty's head. Derek nudged Dex's shoulder.

"I don't think we're going to be the only ones with news to share," he whispered, quirking his head back towards the kitchen. Dex's eyes flitted in that direction and he smirked, leading Derek into the living room where everyone was waiting for dinner.

Their entrance would've gone unnoticed, if not for Chowder's audible gasp when he spotted them. Everyone turned to Chowder and then to them, inspecting for what caused Chowder's reaction. Dex shrugged and grabbed a fistful of Derek's shirt, giving him a filthy kiss in the middle of the living room and leaving Derek breathless, speechless, stunned and blushing as he stared open-mouthed at Dex.

"Just wanted to get a word in edgewise—before we're overshadowed," Dex explained.

"Bros," Holster said, being the first to break the shocked silence, standing up and walking over to them. "It's about time," he continued, slapping them on the back, and the entire room exploded. It was the loudest either of them could ever remember the Haus being (counting kegsters)—but that lasted only until later that night, when Jack pecked Bitty's cheek in the middle of dessert.

Dex was right—they were completely overshadowed once that happened, but nothing was overshadowed for Derek. It couldn't be, not when Dex, for the first time outside their apartment, didn't hesitate to curl into his side on the couch and Derek felt like his heart would burst, he was so happy and full of love. Their team, that was their world, and they finally got to tell everyone.

(On another note, a lot of money ended up being exchanged in the Haus that night.)


	2. I am Not Scared of the Elements

**Summary:** _Things get complicated when Dex's parents show up unannounced for Parents' Weekend._

* * *

 _Characters from Ngozi's webcomic,_ Check, Please!

 _Title from Sara Bareilles'_ I Choose You.

 _Thanks to a few tumblr posts and fics, I head-canon Derek as having two moms._

 _This turned into something really dramatic/emotional, which wasn't exactly what I had been aiming for at first, but I just went where I felt the story was leading me, so it happened anyway._

 _Sequel to_ Tell the World (That We Finally Got It All Right).

 _Shoutout to dazeli*tumblr*com, my beta-er :)_

 _Lastly, it's worth noting that this is the longest fic I've written in about 3.5-4 months...hope you guys enjoy it :)_

 _Originally posted on as an individual fic, but now moved to this combined oneshot fic posting_

* * *

They had been having a pretty good evening. They'd had a nice dinner and now were watching a good movie on Netflix while cuddling on the couch. Dex was loose and pretty content, occasionally letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction while Derek distractedly stroked his hair. It was nice, but then Derek decided he just _had_ to open his big mouth and now that good mood was gone, replaced by nearly unbearable tension.

"My moms are coming for Parents' weekend and they want to meet you," he blurted out. Dex stiffened, setting his jaw as he bolted up and turned towards Derek.

"You told your moms?!" Dex exclaimed angrily.

"No!" Derek answered, backtracking quickly. "Well, not exactly."

" _Not exactly?!_ What the hell does that mean?"

"I just—I mentioned in passing that I had a boyfriend and they caught what I said and—they told me they wanted to meet him," Derek explained, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable with the way Dex was trying to use his eyes to bore through his head. "I never said anything about who he was."

"Oh um, alright," Dex said, sounding marginally relieved, but not relaxing visibly.

"I don't know why I said it to them, I just thought that since we told the Haus that we could—that you might be…" Derek continued, trailing off at the end, the unspoken clear to them both. Dex was quiet for a moment, and then deflated, sinking back into his side.

"I know, I know," he sighed. "You're right but I'm just…"

"Yeah man, I get it," Derek acknowledged, soothingly running his fingers through the short strands of Dex's hair. It circled back to Dex's parents, like it always did. Derek had begun to really resent them, if only for the emotional distress their attitudes constantly caused for Dex on an almost daily basis. "If we ask, I promise they won't tell, but if you're still not okay, it's alright to not want to."

Dex exhaled noisily, rubbing his face harshly. "Okay—I guess."

"Okay?"

"Okay, I guess I'll meet your moms," Dex murmured, snuggling up deeper into Derek.

"I love you babe," Derek responded, kissing the top of Dex's head.

"Yeah yeah, I know," Dex yawned, his eyelids drooping closed. Dex wasn't one for saying "I love you" with his words often. More often than not, he would grumble while showing Derek some kind of affection, which once Derek figured out what that meant, it was just as meaningful. Dex started to snore softly while dozing off, making Derek giggle softly as he pulled out his phone and texted his moms to make plans.

* * *

"Dex, babe, stop it. You look great," Derek cooed as he stepped into their bedroom. Dex had been parked in front of the mirror for the last twenty minutes, smoothing out his shirt, adjusting his tie (a bit of overkill if you asked Derek, but he knew it was useless to try and talk Dex out of wearing it) and fussing with his hair. Derek walked up and wrapped his arms around Dex's waist, placing a gentle kiss onto his cheek. "Trust me babe, they're going to love you."

"But they're your _parents_ , Nurse," Dex said pointedly. "I want to make a good first impression on them!"

"Dex, _chill_ ," Derek teased, laughing when Dex jokingly swatted at him. "Come on, let's meet them out front."

Derek unwound from around Dex, offering his hand, which Dex took unhesitatingly. Dex was still totally too tense, but nothing Derek could say would change that, not until he met his moms and Dex realized himself that he had nothing to worry about.

When they walked out of their apartment building, he could see his moms already just a block away, walking down the sidewalk to meet them. Derek smiled and waved at them, moving to pull Dex towards them.

"Billy! Honey!" a woman shouted suddenly, and Dex went completely stiff, his face paling. He dropped Derek's hand and hurriedly took a step to put some distance between them as the woman came around the corner, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere. She was tall and stout with curly red hair, and had an average height, balding man trailing behind her.

"H-hi mom, d-dad," Dex stuttered. At the words "mom" and "dad", Derek swore he felt his own heart rate skyrocket. _Dex's parents_. What the _fuck_ were they doing _here_?

"Surprised to see us?" she asked excitedly, beaming at Dex as Derek took a few steps away towards his moms.

"Y-yeah," Dex spluttered. "I—I d-didn't know you were c-coming."

"Well, we decided to surprise you! It's great to see you baby," she exclaimed, embracing Dex tightly. Over her shoulder, Dex caught Derek's eyes, panic written all over his face.

" _The team_ ," Dex mouthed.

 _Fuck_ , they had to warn the team that Dex's parents were here, or else they might say something to accidentally out him. He quirked his eyes back towards their apartment and Dex understood his silent communication, disentangling from his mom and dragging her in through the door to show them their apartment (thank God they had a bed set up in the guest room, or else that might be very hard to explain). Derek shot him what he hoped was a comforting smile and then turned, jogging up to his moms who had reached the walk up to their apartment and had stopped to watch the scene that unfolded.

"Let's go to the Haus," Derek said quickly, barely pausing in front of them.

"Well hello to you too," his mom retorted sarcastically. Derek scowled and his mama snagged his arm, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Derek, honey, what was that about?" his mama asked, petting his hair soothingly.

"That was Dex. He's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about my. And um, those were his parents—he's not uh, out to them yet," Derek mumbled, sagging slightly into his mama's shoulder.

"Understood," she said as both his moms nodded grimly.

"I need to go alert the team, you know, so no one accidentally outs him," Derek explained, spinning and walking briskly towards the Haus as his moms followed close behind.

"Are you alright, love?" his mama asked as they walked. He knew they weren't used to seeing him like this, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped and head hanging.

"I—what?" Derek said distractedly. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just worried about Dex. We didn't know his parents were coming so it's just—I'm just a little off-balance because Dex was like—panicking and there's not a _damn_ thing I can do to make him feel better," he continued bitterly, shrugging.

"Yeah, I can imagine that's a really sucky feeling," she sighed, comfortingly placing a hand on his shoulder.

"This—this is a lot to have to deal with," his mom added. "Are you sure you're okay with us being here? We can go if you don't want the extra pressure—we'll understand."

"No, no, I want you to be here! I mean, you didn't get to come last year and who knows if you'll be able to come next year," Derek protested. They were always so busy, and it was nothing short of a minor miracle they were able to get time off to come.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine, we can figure it out. You don't have to go," Derek nodded as they trudged up the Haus porch steps. _It'll be nice to have someone else here for support_ he didn't say, but he was sure that was understood anyway.

"Mmm, what is that delightful smell?" Mama asked when they stepped inside.

"Oh, that's Bitty, you know, the baker I was telling you about? Yeah, anyway," Derek answered distractedly before bellowing. " _HAUS MEETING IN THE LIVING ROOM RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND!_ "

"Goodness! Can y'all not be screamin' profanities as loud as you can when parents are s'posed to be here?" Bitty exclaimed in shock as he emerged from the kitchen. "Oh Nursey! I didn't realize you even knew how to yell—but can you not do that again? We need to make a good—wait, where's Dex?"

 _Huh, he hadn't even realized they had reached a point where it was odd for them to not show up to places together._

"That's what this is about," Derek said grimly.

That was enough to stop Bitty's lecture, and he nodded and silently went into the living room, perching on one of the lounge chairs. After a few minutes, eventually Chowder, Lardo, Ransom and Holster all trickled in, watching Derek with concerned curiosity.

"Dex's parents showed up unannounced," Derek explained simply once they were all gathered. Bitty gasped, his hand flying up to his mouth, and everyone else either cringed or frowned (or did both (Chowder)). "So no one can say a word about him or about us, or else I swear to God I will actually kill the person responsible for outing him."

"That person won't be gettin' pie either!" Bitty said sternly, adding his most severe threat.

"Bro, I promise we would _never_ ," said Holster sincerely, and the rest of the guys murmured in agreement.

"And we're here for you bro, if you need anything," Ransom continued when the murmurs died down.

"Thanks guys," Derek said, feeling a little choked up at their outpouring of support. "Spread the word to the rest of the team, and I'll…"

He trailed off when the front door slammed. Dex stomped around the corner and, upon seeing Derek, flung himself at him.

"I can't do this, I can't do this, _I can't do this_ ," Dex repeated, burying his head into the crook of Derek's neck as his entire body convulsed violently.

"Babe—Dex— _Will_ —look at me," Derek said firmly. When he did, Derek cradled his head carefully with his hands. "It's going to be okay, I promise it's going to be okay."

"They've already started asking me questions I can't answer," Dex whispered faintly. He wasn't crying yet, but looked like he was close it. "I—I can't handle a whole weekend of this—I just can't."

"I know it's hard, but I don't want you to do anything you would regret just because you're scared and upset and panicking," Derek replied, rubbing his thumb soothingly across Dex's jawline.

" _Derek_ —"

"Look, we're gonna get through this, alright? Just—just try and stay calm. Can you do that?" Derek asked. Dex nodded and then he kissed him softly for a long time. After a moment, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Dex's parents are walking up to the Haus," his mom said. Derek nodded slightly, reluctantly prying Dex off of him.

"We'll talk about this more tonight, okay?"

"Okay," Dex answered just as his parents came into the Haus. Dex rigidly walked over to them, offering to show them parents around the Haus, and Derek pulled his moms into the kitchen, where Bitty was in the middle of baking several pies.

"Bitty? Bits are you—are you stress-baking?" Derek asked, since Bitty rarely ever made more than one or two pies at once, and currently there appeared to be _at least_ four in progress.

"Mama and Coach are going to be here in about an hour," Bitty explained breathlessly, flitting about frantically.

"So Dex isn't the only one getting fucked over by his parents this weekend," Derek sighed, already feeling exhausted as he rested his head on the table.

"Goodness, it's not like that," Bitty gasped. "It's just—they're meetin' Jack for the first time—as my boyfriend—and I'm nervous—Coach has been actin' really weird ever since I came out over the summer and I ain't sure how he's gonna react to meetin' him."

"I guarantee he still loves you. I'm sure he was just surprised and as parents, sometimes when you're surprised, you just don't know how to react, that's all," Derek's mom chimed in. Bitty jumped at the unfamiliar voice, turning around to see who it was.

"Lord, I didn't realize anyone else was in here!"

"Oh yeah, sorry Bits, these are my moms, Liz and Christa," Derek said, quickly introducing them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Bitty grinned, and then frowned, turning back to his pies. "Anyway, I'm sorry to be complainin' about my problems to y'all, I'm sure that's not why you're in here and besides you have much worse to be dealin' with and—"

Derek's mama scoffed. "It's quite alright, honey."

Just then, Dex came shuffling into the kitchen.

"Dex, you're just in time!" Bitty said cheerily, scooping up a pie from the counter and carrying it over to the table. "This pie just finished cooling so y'all can sit down and have a slice."

Dex stopped, his eyes going back and forth between his parents and Derek's moms.

"Well I was actually thinking—" Dex started to mumble, before being overruled by his mom.

"That sounds lovely uh—"

"Eric, but you can call me Bitty."

"Yes Eric, thank you. Oh pardon me, where are my manners? I'm Shannon and this is my husband Patrick, and our son, Will," she said, sitting down on the opposite side of the table from Derek and his moms and extending her hand.

"Liz," his mom replied sweetly. "My wife, Christa and our son, Derek."

"It's very nice to meet you. And Derek," Shannon chuckled, turning to face him. "Billy talks about you quite often. Sometimes it seems from the way he talks, that you're his only friend here, though I'm sure that's not the case."

It very nearly physically pained Derek to not smirk at Dex, who was looking down at his lap and turning scarlet, but he managed; such an expression might be a little too obvious (though he was definitely getting chirped for that later).

"Yeah, well Dex is a cool dude, so we hang out a lot," Derek said, shrugging. He meant it to sound casual, but it came out being more sincere than he had intended. Shannon smiled at him knowingly (which was definitely unnerving) and turned back to talk to his moms.

Their parents continued to chatter inanely while they ate, and he and Dex tried to avoid looking at each other. Just as they were finishing up, Bitty yelped.

"I take it his parents are here," Liz chortled.

"Yeah, that's probably our cue to head out," Derek said, gathering up plates as he rose to his feet. He set them down in the sink, turning to Dex. "Come on Dex, we need to go back and grab a couple things before our game."

Dex nodded silently.

"Oh, well it was lovely to meet you all," Shannon smiled. "I'm sure we'll see you at the game this afternoon."

"Yes, you will. If you're not already sitting with anyone, you're welcome to join us," Christa offered as Derek and Dex made a beeline for the door.

"Why we certainly…" was the beginning of the response they heard as they headed outside.

Dex only started to breathe again once they were a couple blocks away from the Haus.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Derek said reassuringly, reaching over to take Dex's hand, which he did after a second's hesitation.

"They—they were so _nice_ to your moms," Dex said in a stunned whisper.

"Maybe they don't care as much as you think they do," Derek replied with cautious optimism in his voice.

"Yeah, I don't know—maybe," Dex shrugged, like he didn't really believe him. They walked the rest of the way in silence, waiting until they were in the privacy of their apartment to say anything else.

"Hey, c'mere," Derek said once they were inside, pulling Dex into his arms. "You're doing great babe."

"Thanks," Dex said, sagging into Derek, some of his tension unwinding for the few minutes they stood there in their own world, embracing tightly as Derek rubbed Dex's back tenderly.

"C'mon, let's go play some hockey," Derek said, breaking the calm silence, dragging them both back into the reality. "You won't have to think about this as much on the rink."

"Alright, _Jack_ ," Dex chirped as he walked away. Derek threw his head back and laughed, following Dex to grab their gear and head down to Faber.

* * *

The game itself was uneventful as far as hockey games go, a routine 3-1 win. He and Dex played a solid game, despite the palpable lingering tension they both couldn't help but carry onto the rink. Dex's parents caught him on their way back to the locker room, so Derek continued on and let them talk. Dex trudged in only a minute or two after him, and they both changed and showered in silence before sitting back down together on a bench in the locker room for a few extra moments.

"They want to take me out for dinner," Dex mumbled, laying his head on Derek's shoulder and tangling their fingers together.

"Alright, that's chill," Derek replied, squeezing Dex's hand.

"But we were—"

"I know, but babe, it's going to look weird if you turn them down to have dinner with me and my moms."

"You could always come with me instead."

"Nah, my moms might kill me if I ditched them. Besides, it's probably not a good idea anyway," Derek shook his head. "I'm not sure I could keep my hands off you if I did."

"Yeah, I know," Dex sighed heavily. "I wouldn't be able to either. It's just—I don't want to be alone with them."

"You can do it," Derek said encouragingly. "And if you think you can't, just remember that I'll be home waiting for you when it's over."

"Well, when you put it that way…" Dex smirked.

"That's what _you_ think'll happen," Derek responded, shoving Dex playfully as they both laughed. "Now get outta here—before it starts looking suspicious."

"Yeah," Dex said morosely, the light mood lost. He pecked Derek on the cheek quickly before adding: "I'll see you later."

"See ya Dex."

Derek hung back for a minute and then left to find his moms.

"You played great, honey," Christa cooed, hugging Derek tightly.

"Yeah, you and Dex make a pretty good team out there," Liz added, clapping Derek on the back. "Speaking of, where is he?"

"Oh, his parents wanted to do something with him, so I said to go ahead and go with them," Derek shrugged nonchalantly.

"Good thinking," Christa hummed thoughtfully. "So now that's it just the three of us, what do you want to do honey?"

"Why don't we just go back to my place and make something and then like, chill?" Derek suggested, not wanting to take the chance of being out somewhere when Dex got back.

"Alright," Liz agreed.

"But you're letting your mom and I do the cooking," Christa continued as they started walking. "We all know you can't cook for shit."

"Hey, Dex doesn't mind my cooking!" Derek protested indignantly.

"I bet it's only because he's worse," Liz sassed.

"Well…" Derek murmured to his moms' raucous laughter.

* * *

It was late and his moms were already gone by the time Dex stormed into the apartment. Whereas the first time Dex was alone with his parents, he was on the verge of crying, this time Dex was furious. He slammed the door, _hard_ , pulling Derek out of his dozing haze.

"I cannot _believe_ them!" he growled, standing in front of the couch, his face blazing and his fists clenched tightly.

"What's the matter Dex?" Derek asked worriedly, latching onto Dex's arm and forcibly pulling him down onto the couch and into his side.

"They just won't stop _pushing_ ," Dex fumed. "Even when I said I didn't want to talk about it!"

"What were they making you talk about?" Derek probed. He didn't think that Dex's parents forced him to come out—at least not yet; he fully expected tears from Dex when that happened, not anger.

"My love life," Dex said disgustedly. "They wouldn't stop asking about girls, and what dates have I been on and why don't I seem interested—I think they _know_ and they're just _waiting_ for me to fuck up and tell them."

"And do you want to?" Derek questioned calmly.

"Do I want to what?"

"Tell them."

Dex's eyes widened at him in surprise. "Oh—I—no? Maybe? I don't know," he replied, huffing out a long sigh. "I'm scared, but I just don't want to keep doing this to you," he added quietly after a long pause, burying his head into Derek's chest.

"Nah, don't worry about me. It's all chill."

"You're too good to me," Dex whispered. "After all the shit I've been putting you through since day one—and you've never…I don't understand why."

"I love you and Dex, man, love isn't something scientific, something that's meant to be understood or could ever _be_ understood. It's something we're meant to do and feel, not something we're supposed to explain," Derek answered.

"You're such a fucking English major," Dex grumbled, squeezing his arms tighter around Derek and burrowing his head deeper into his chest.

"Yeah, and _you're_ the one fucking an English major," Derek chuckled.

"Yeah, I am," Dex said through a startled laugh. "But not tonight—I don't think I could look you in the eye in front of my parents tomorrow if we did."

"Fair enough. How 'bout going to bed to get some sleep then?"

* * *

"All we have to do is make it through this brunch and then we'll be in the clear," Derek said, holding both of Dex's hands as they stood on the Haus porch the next morning. Dex was jittery, constantly looking over his shoulder for approaching parents.

"Y-yeah," he stuttered.

"Alright, let's do it," Derek spoke, releasing his hands and moving to go inside.

"Hey Derek," Dex mumbled, grabbing his arm and gently pulling him back. "Thanks for—you know…"

"No need to thank me," Derek shrugged. "I'm just doing what a good boyfriend should do."

"Still…"

"You're welcome," said Derek sincerely, quickly pecking Dex on the lips without thinking.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat and they both jumped away.

"For as hard as you two are trying to hide, that was an awful careless thing to do," Liz chided the startled boys.

"Sorry," Derek murmured, his face turning bright red out of embarrassment.

"It's fine," Dex responded, turning scarlet himself (that probably had more to do with the fact that his boyfriend's parents saw them kissing than anything else). "Let's just get this fucking brunch over with," he continued as they filed into the Haus.

"William Poindexter, how _dare_ you talk about my brunch with that tone of voice," Bitty scolded, pointing at him threateningly with his spatula.

"Sorry Bits, I'm sure your brunch will be great. It's just the idea of having to spend more time with my parents—" Dex groaned.

"How dare you talk about your _parents_ with that tone of voice," a woman called shrilly from the kitchen.

" _Mama!"_ Bitty squeaked, quickly disappearing back into the kitchen. They all shrugged and wandered over to the living room. The only other parents that came besides Bitty's, Derek's and Dex's were Chowder's, who were already sitting on the green couch with him. Jack was standing awkwardly up against the wall next to someone who Derek figured could only be Coach, and the rest of the team was scattered around the room, leaving Dex's parents as the last to arrive.

They all found places to sit, Derek and Dex being careful to not to sit next to each other. When Dex's parents entered the room, a hush fell over the living room. Dex pasted on a fake smile and walked over to greet them while Derek glared at the rest of the room, which did nothing to ease the tense atmosphere. What did was Bitty and Suzanne declaring that brunch was ready, followed by the stampede of hockey boys making a run for the food.

By ten minutes into brunch, Derek had decided that warning the team about Dex's parents was actually a _terrible_ idea, because, other than Bitty, it turns out they had no sense of subtlety. None of them. _At all_. They wouldn't stop shooting strange looks at him or Dex or Dex's parents, no matter how many times or how intensely Derek glared at them. Dex had noticed and was steadily turning redder and Derek sensed the waves of frustration radiating off of him (as could half of the room, _including_ Dex's parents).

"Alright, that's it—"

"Shannon," Patrick said lowly in warning.

"No Pat, I've had enough of this. Billy, you have been acting strangely all weekend—"

Dex looked up like a frightened deer in a car's headlights, and the rest the table watched with horrified fascination.

"—don't look at me like that, of course we noticed."

"Shannon, you can't push him like this—"

"Yes I can, because excuse me for being his _parent_ , but I am worried that there's something wrong that he's not telling us!"

"Nothing's wrong," Dex muttered through clenched teeth. Derek sucked in a breath, bracing himself; when Dex started talking through gritted teeth, he was just about at his breaking point, desperately trying to hold it together. If his mom kept after him like this, he was going to crack.

"Really? Because it certainly doesn't seem like it," Shannon berated him. "You've been so tense and quiet, and you've been avoiding telling us _anything_ —"

"Fine! Fine, you really want to know what's going on?" Dex shouted, jumping to his feet and tensing up into a defensive posture. "I haven't told you about my life here because I can't tell you anything without making you hate me!"

" _What on God's green Earth would make you think_ —" Shannon said, astonished, before Dex interrupted her again.

"Because I'm gay, mom, okay? I'm gay, and I have a boyfriend, and I know what you think about that, I've had to listen to you talk about gay people with such disgust my entire life! So I'm sorry that I acted weird just so I could still have parents that liked me!" Dex finished and then stomped out.

After he recovered from the shock, Derek shot up and quickly followed him, the wake of Dex's outburst leaving the kitchen dead silent.

"Will," Derek said, knocking on the door to the bathroom.

"It's n-not locked," Dex hiccupped. Derek quickly slipped inside, settling next to Dex, who had curled up on the floor.

"You're really brave, you know that right?" Derek spoke, wrapping an arm around Dex's shoulders.

"W-what the fuck, N-Nurse?"

"You said to me, not even two months ago, that you were _never_ going to come out to your parents. But you stood up and told them, even though you felt sure that they would reject you. That takes a lot of guts and I'm proud of you," Derek explained. Dex looked at him, bewildered.

"S-so what? My p-parents h-hate me n-now," Dex spluttered, putting his head into Derek's shoulder as he started to cry.

"Will, anyone who would hate you for who you love is someone who never deserved to be in your life in the first place."

"Y-yeah, I g-guess," Dex sniffled, though his words rang hollow as he sobbed into Derek's shirt and Derek clung to him tightly, crying with him a little and feeling as if Dex would fall to pieces without his arms around him.

"Besides, you know the guys here will always have your back, and my moms will be there for you, and I'll always be there for you too," Derek murmured.

"I-I love y-you," Dex whispered, squeezing Derek back tighter.

"I love you too," Derek replied, kissing the top of Dex's head.

He didn't know how long he sat with Dex on the bathroom floor, holding him together, but eventually, there was a knock on the door.

"You okay bros?" he heard Holster ask. Derek pulled Dex to his feet, Dex hanging on him for support as he opened the door.

"Yeah, we'll be fine eventually," Derek said softly.

"Look bro, I don't want you to be surprised, so just so you know, your parents are still here," Holster added, placing a hand gently on Dex's shoulder.

"Maybe we should go out the back," Derek mused.

"N-no, it's fine. I'll b-be okay," Dex mumbled.

"Alright," Holster shrugged, turning to go up to the attic.

They went down the stairs, and Derek intended to go right past the living room, where Dex's parents, his moms, Suzanne, Coach, Bitty and Jack were sitting, and go out the door, but when they saw him, Shannon shot up and walked over to the doorway.

"My dear, my dear son," Shannon cried softly, her eyes red and puffy. "I'm so sorry."

"W-why? Are you sorry that you hate me? Sorry that I'm a disgrace to my family? Sorry that—" Dex replied sharply, his voice wobbly but full of anger.

"No honey, stop! None of that is true! I couldn't hate you and you're not a disgrace—I'm so sorry for ever having done anything to make you think there was ever something you could ever do or be to make us not love you just the way you are," she answered, dabbing at the tears that were starting to fall from her eyes again. Dex looked at her, wide-eyed, and let out a choked cry as he stumbled into her arms. "I wanted to tell you that right away but—you ran away too fast and then Derek followed and—I knew that you two needed some time," she continued.

"B-but—all those things you said and—why don't you—I don't understand," Dex blubbered as Shannon guided them over to the couch. When they sat down, room was quickly made for Derek to sit next to Dex, which he did, taking Dex's hand into his own for support.

"Dear, I've known this day was coming for a long time."

Dex looked over at his dad, who nodded in agreement.

"Wha—how?"

"Billy," she chuckled. "Teen-aged you was not exactly subtle. Among many things, the multitude of lingering glances over the years made it pretty obvious. And if we didn't know before, well, let's just say, when you showed us your apartment yesterday, it was fairly clear that no one had been living in the room you _said_ was yours."

"Oh," Dex swallowed thickly, taking a minute to process everything she had said. "But—but why did you say all that stuff—when you knew?"

"I'm ashamed to admit that I've been guilty far too many times of simply parroting what others around me have said, and not thinking for myself, and most certainly not thinking about how those things would sound to you and make you feel about yourself."

Dex leaned back, looking like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him.

"I—I don't know what to say," he said.

"Perhaps you could start by officially introducing Derek to us as your boyfriend," she replied, making Dex flush brightly.

"Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend Derek," Dex murmured, gesturing subtly back and forth between them. "Nurse, these are my parents."

Derek grinned and waved.

"Oh no dear," she tsk-ed, standing up. "You're going to get up and give me a proper hug."

Derek shrugged and rose to his feet, being crushed the second he did.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, of course," Derek whispered back. When they pulled apart, the room applauded (the team had all gathered again and watched the whole scene unfold), and Derek pulled Dex up and hugged him tightly. "I'm really happy for you."

"It's—yeah, thank you," Dex said, gazing at Derek with a look that could only be described at the literal definition of "heart-eyes". "I couldn't have ever done this without you."

"I was just—"

"—being a good boyfriend. You were a whole lot more than that, but I know you'll be modest about it if I try to argue, so just shut up and kiss me," Dex interrupted, as the hockey team started to softly chant _kiss, kiss, kiss_ (over Bitty's protests of _y'all, stop it_ ).

"What?"

Dex rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing Derek's face and pulling him in for a slow, chaste kiss.

"I love you," Derek said, dazed when Dex pulled away.

"Yeah Derek, I love you too."


	3. Treacherous

**Summary:** _One day, he was talking to his mom, and she had the poor sense to ask Derek if he and Dex were dating ("You talk about him_ so much _. It makes a mother wonder…"). Derek's brain completely short-circuited at the implication, his mouth disconnecting and making strange noises that sounded a lot more like a confirmation rather than a denial, and by the time he'd regained the ability to use words, his mom was saying she couldn't wait to meet Dex that weekend during Parents' Weekend, and then hung up._

* * *

 _For AO3 user alyssakate as part of the Valentines, Please! AO3 fic exchange._

 _So in the process of coming up with this fic, I actually ended up getting significant progress on at least one of the other prompts you gave me, before getting stuck on it and this one ended up happening. So...I'll be holding onto that and working to finish it later because I loved the idea I just...need more time to get it figured out lol and it probably won't be posted until after the exchange is over (but I'll make sure to tag you). Hope you enjoy this one first though :)_

 _Title from the Taylor Swift song._

 _Originally posted on AO3 and Tumblr on February 14, 2016_

 _Originally posted on as an individual fic, but now moved to this combined oneshot fic posting_

* * *

It was a problem, the way Dex turned Derek into a complete dipshit. Dex made him want to write cheesy romantic poems, something he'd always hated, and made him feel completely unchill like no one else had before. Truth was, Derek was more than a little smitten with the fiery boy that was William Poindexter. He drove Derek completely crazy and made it hard to think whenever he was around. But so far, that hadn't gotten Derek into trouble, despite the fact that they shared an apartment.

And then, one day, he was talking to his mom, and she had the poor sense to ask Derek if he and Dex were dating ("You talk about him _so much_. It makes a mother wonder…"). Derek's brain completely short-circuited at the implication, his mouth disconnecting and making strange noises that sounded a lot more like a confirmation rather than a denial, and by the time he'd regained the ability to use words, his mom was saying she couldn't wait to meet Dex that weekend during Parents' Weekend, and then hung up.

Derek—he wasn't quite sure how to correct his mom. Wasn't even sure he even wanted to correct her. The idea of forcing Dex to pretend they were dating was—alright, it was stupid. Dex would never agree to it and he really should've called his mom back and explained his mistake. But—he thought, as he wandered out to their apartment's living room, that maybe, it couldn't hurt to ask Dex if he'd be willing to play along, right?

* * *

"You want me to do _what_?!" Dex shrieked, his face flushing to an impressively dark shade of red in mere milliseconds.

Okay, so in hindsight, maybe he should've just called his mom back and not told Dex about the mix-up. If he had taken even a second to think about it, he would've realized that Dex—a straight-as-a-board guy with a Republican sticker on his laptop—ever considering being his pretend boyfriend was actually a pretty laughable idea. But he hadn't taken any time to think about it and he was here, he'd already told Dex, and well, Dex hadn't immediately refused, so—there wasn't any sense in giving up until Dex had told him no (like Derek knew he would).

"My mom thinks you're my boyfriend and she's coming this weekend and—I think we should pretend while she's here," Derek repeated, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

"What—wait, where did she ever get that idea?" Dex asked, his face continuing to darken as he leapt up and paced across the floor of the living room.

"Apparently I talk about you a lot," Derek's mouth said without permission from his brain. Sure, he did talk about Dex a lot, but there was no reason Dex needed to know that. Derek was sure he was going to get chirped, but instead Dex's face, impossibly, turned a few shades darker.

"What can you even tell her about me? All we do is bicker," Dex pointed out, mumbling and having the nerve to be the one to act more embarrassed by Derek's admission.

Derek shrugged. "I don't know man, I don't remember every conversation I've ever had with my mother. But we live in the same space. It's hard to avoid talking about you."

"Alright fine. That's fair," Dex huffed. "But why didn't you tell her we weren't?"

Derek shrugged again, because he didn't have an answer. Or at least, not one that didn't come down to _"I didn't tell her no because I like you and I like the idea of us dating"_.

"It's just a day and a half," he said instead.

"I—I get that, but why the fuck do you want to do this? Why not just call her and admit that you messed up?" Dex questioned, and Derek was afraid that Dex was seeing right through him.

That's because the answer was that he didn't want to call his mom and explain; he wanted to do this, if only for the selfish reason of being able to say that, for a day and a half, Dex was his boyfriend. To have something he can hold onto on the days in the future when it hit him the hardest that he and Dex would never be anything but friends; something that seemed to be happening to him more and more often recently.

It was like that's what Dex wanted him to admit, but rather than say anything to force his hand, rather than pushing him until he cracked, Dex just looked at him, and he seemed to be both curious and confused. Not angry, not embarrassed, not frustrated. Just—mostly confused. Along with a strange something in Dex's eyes that Derek didn't think he'd ever seen before.

"You didn't hear her voice on the phone," Derek answered after a long beat that he hoped Dex didn't notice. "She's been like bugging me about dating and finding someone for ages and she was just so excited for me and like, I hate the idea of disappointing her."

Dex was quiet for a few minutes, concentrating hard; Derek recognized the face from whenever Dex was working on his CS homework.

" _Fuck_ , okay," Dex sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. " _Fine_ , I'll do it. But you owe me for like, the rest of your life."

Dex said something else after that, but Derek was too busy reeling from the shock of Dex actually agreeing to be his fake boyfriend. That was, honestly, an…well, Derek knew there were many possible outcomes, and he'd managed to think through most of them as the conversation wore on, but Dex saying anything other than no to his (frankly) ridiculous proposal—that wasn't something he'd accounted for.

"Earth to Nursey," Dex said, waving a hand in front of his face.

"I'm sorry, what?" Derek said, knowing that his voice sounding as dazed as he felt. Dex rolled his eyes and shoved him.

"Bro, I was saying that you shouldn't expect me to kiss you or do any over-the-top shit like that," Dex repeated, and Derek nodded his head rapidly in agreement, swallowing thickly. That was the one thing Derek didn't want to do. As long as they didn't kiss, Derek could keep his feelings in check. Maybe. He hoped.

"Yeah, I wouldn't make you do that," Derek laughed nervously. "I'm sure someone like you would probably like to go their whole lives without kissing another guy."

 _"Someone like me?"_ Dex snapped, offended.

"Well, you are a straight Republican bro," Derek explained. Derek had been poking Dex on this issue almost from the moment he saw the sticker on his laptop.

"I know you think that makes me some kind of homophobic asshole, but I'm not," Dex retorted, clearly frustrated.

"Dude, have you heard the things Republicans say about gay people? It's hard not to assume that you're just like them," Derek shrugged; it _was_ almost wholly the reason Derek thought Dex would say no to pretending to be his boyfriend.

"I'm not like them," Dex countered. "Do you think I'd have agreed to be your fake boyfriend if I was?"

"You never know man," Derek replied coolly.

"Look—I'm a Republican only because—well, I really don't expect you to understand," Dex sighed, giving Derek a look that meant Dex was done talking about it. "I've got homework. You need to leave me alone for a while."

Derek nodded and stood up. "I guess I'll see you later, _boyfriend_ ," he joked.

"Fuck off Nurse," Dex replied flippantly as Derek walked out back to his bedroom.

On the way back to his own room, now that his brain was back to somewhat functioning again with a wall between him and Dex, it occurred to Derek, for the first time in all of this, that maybe this was a horrible idea. How the fuck was he supposed to make real emotions come across as fake? Because if Dex realized he wasn't really pretending, he was so fucked.

Derek reversed course, quickly exiting their apartment to head for the Haus instead of going to his room. He desperately needed advice on how to deal with this. Bitty would probably have something to say that might help him.

"I fucked up Bitty," Derek sighed without fanfare immediately upon entering the Haus, plopping down heavily at the kitchen table.

"Oh goodness!" Bitty startled, nearly dropping the pie tin he had in his hands. "Nursey I—I didn't expect anyone to be here."

"Sorry Bits," Derek mumbled, moving to stand up. "I guess I'll just go then."

"No, no, you can stay, it's fine," Bitty urged, setting down the tin and reaching for the cupboards to, Derek assumed, grab a plate. "I mean, I wasn't doin' anythin' where I needed to be alone, so you're welcome to stay."

Derek sat back down while Bitty fixed up a slice of pie and sat it down in front of him.

"Now why don't you tell me what's goin' on," Bitty said, returning to whatever it was he had been working on before.

"I—my mom called," Derek began. Bitty hesitated minutely before humming to indicate he was following. "And she uh—she assumed that Dex and I were dating."

"Lord, where would she get that idea?" Bitty exclaimed, his wooden spoon clattering against the side of the metal bowl as he lost his handle on it. "I'm sorry, but the way y'all are with each other, I can't even picture it."

As a whole, Derek decided Bitty's reaction was fairly tame and made sense, considering the statement.

"I don't know," Derek mumbled, feeling his face start to flush in mortification of explaining what happened next out loud. "But I sorta didn't correct her?"

"Sorta?"

"I was too shocked to really reply, and I guess she took that to mean that we were? And then she hung up before I could correct her," Derek continued.

"Well I could see how that would be embarrassin', but—"

"It gets worse," Derek lamented, leaning forward to rest his head on the table, wishing that the ground would just swallow him up.

"You didn't—" Bitty gasped, covering his mouth in shock.

"I did," Derek murmured. "A-and I—I convinced him to fake it for my mom."

 _"Nursey,"_ Bitty said, his big brown eyes going wide.

"That's not why I'm fucked though," Derek exhaled softly. "I—I actually l-like Dex, Bitty. And after this weekend—I think he's going to figure it out. I can't—I don't think I can do this without being super obvious about it."

"So you just call your mom back and explain the mix-up," Bitty suggested, sitting down next to Derek and rubbing his back comfortingly.

"I'm not sure that I can," Derek said in a small voice. "I—I just want this with him so bad, even if it's just for a short time."

"Nurse—Derek, sweetheart," Bitty replied softly, sighing. "I understand how you feel, I really do. And I know I can't tell you what to do, but just—honey, I'm feelin' like there's too much at stake for you to go through with this. You and Dex still have to play together for two more years and that's—it'll be really hard when you an' Dex have somethin' like this hangin' over you. Plus you're _livin'_ with him."

"But Dex will think I'm being weird now if I tell him I don't want to do it!" Derek protested. Actually he didn't know if Dex would or not, but after he went through the trouble to convince him to do it, suddenly backing out would probably look—suspicious; maybe more so than simply going through it.

"Like I said, it ain't my decision," Bitty shrugged, giving Derek a gentle pat on the back as he stood up. "I'm just sayin' you should think about the potential consequences more."

"Thanks Bitty," Derek said, before snatching up a fork in his endeavor to drown his conflicting feelings in pie.

* * *

But Derek kept thinking about it, waffling back and forth on what to do, unable to make a decision until time made it for him. He just kept waiting, until it was Saturday morning, and his mom would be arriving any minute. He couldn't back out now. So he stood inside by the front door of their apartment, a vibrating bundle of nerves while Dex stood calmly next to him, somehow completely chill for maybe the first time in the time Derek had known him, something he found to be strangely uncharacteristic of Dex, given the situation. It was a fact that Dex was enjoying way too much.

"Nurse," Dex said, pausing and turning towards him with a giant smirk on his face. _"Chill."_

"Could you not be so fucking smug about this?" Derek grumbled, flipping Dex off before crossing his arms petulantly.

"Payback's a bitch," Dex shrugged, knocking into Derek playfully.

"I fucking hate you," Derek muttered, scowling at Dex.

"Is that any way to be talking to your boyfriend?" Dex asked jokingly.

"It is when he's being a smug asshole," Derek quipped. Despite Dex's attitude, Derek was starting to relax a little. This—the two of them needling each other—was familiar territory. That was, however, interrupted by his mom knocking on the door. Derek jumped, causing Dex to snicker quietly at him; but in his defense, he hadn't even seen her car pull up, he was so busy bickering with Dex.

"My _God_ , I think you've gotten a whole foot taller since the last time I saw you!" his mom exclaimed, coming up to hug him when they opened the door.

"Hi mom," was all he said, hugging her back gently. When she pulled away, she turned to Dex (who had a strange little grin on his face) and smiled.

"And this must be the infamous Dex," she said, reaching out to hug him too.

" _Infamous_?" Dex said, pretending to sound like he was wounded as he returned the embrace. "Nurse, what the fuck have you been telling her about me?"

"He hasn't said anything bad about you," his mom assured Dex, patting him on the shoulder gently. "At least, he hasn't since freshman year. Back then, Derek was calling almost every day to bitch about his D-man partner that 'just needs to like, fucking chill, mom'."

" _Mom_!" Derek hissed, his face flushing rapidly. Dex didn't need to know that he'd been calling his mom, telling her about him almost every day from the first day they met. That—that definitely looked—some kind of way that Derek really didn't need it to right now.

But Dex just laughed, much to Derek's bewilderment.

"Yeah, we haven't always been good at getting along, but I was stuck with him as my partner on the ice, so we figured it out, you know?" Dex explained as he led both him and his mom deeper into their apartment.

"And now look at you two," she beamed.

"And now look at us," Dex repeated, throwing an arm around Derek's shoulders and smiling at him—fondly? Yeah, that was definitely a fond smile. Which...that was different. After a moment of awkward smiling at each other, his mom cleared her throat.

"Now, if you could just point me towards the room where I'll be staying, that would be greatly appreciated," she said, holding up her bag. "Mind you, it's not heavy, but I'd prefer not to lug it around all morning."

"Oh, uh, yeah mom," Derek replied, biting his lip anxiously. "It's um, down the hall, first door on your left—"

He didn't finish because Dex had started painfully squeezing his shoulder, but thankfully she didn't notice, disappearing down the hallway for a brief second before returning.

"Campus just looked absolutely lovely on the drive in," she declared, grinning. "How about you two show me around, give me the grand tour."

"Absolutely Mrs. Nurse," Dex said, smiling again, though Derek could see that this one was forced, in contrast to the easy smile he was displaying earlier.

"Dear, you can call me Cassie," she chuckled. "The only person who calls me Mrs. Nurse is my mother-in-law and, between us, she's not the most pleasant woman to deal with and I'd rather not be reminded of her."

"My dad always says the same thing about his mother-in-law," Dex replied, chortling. "Why don't you go and wait out on the porch while Nursey and I grab our coats. We'll be out in a second."

Derek gave her a pleading look that she caught, nodded at and then left. Dex turned on him menacingly once the door latched shut.

"You didn't tell me she was staying in _your room_ ," Dex remarked angrily.

"I didn't know she was going to stay with us at all," Derek responded weakly. He really didn't. She always stayed at hotels when she went places. This wasn't his fault!

"But your parents are like, loaded. Why isn't she staying at a hotel?" Dex asked.

"I don't know!" Derek said, starting to feel panicked. _Fuck_ , this was bad. They might have to share a bed and that—that wasn't going to end well. "She didn't say anything and she always does, so I— _shit_ , I thought she was!"

"What are we going to do?"

"I guess I'll just have to sleep on the floor of your room tonight," Derek answered quickly. Derek was fairly certain that was the only thing they could do about it besides actually sleeping in the same bed, which of course, was a terrible idea.

"We have a game tomorrow, you dumbass, you can't sleep on the floor," Dex retorted firmly. "Just take the couch."

"That'll _definitely_ tip my mom off that this is all just a ruse," Derek answered exasperatedly.

Dex exhaled unsteadily, rubbing at his eyes harshly.

"Alright fine, I guess we'll have to share my bed. _BUT_ —if you fucking spoon me, I swear to God I will kill you," Dex stated as he yanked the entry closet open and pulled out their coats.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to," Derek mumbled as Dex grabbed his hand and pulled him outside. When Dex didn't make a move to pull away, Derek twined their fingers together, holding Dex's hand as they walked. Derek was too busy trying to control the feeling of his heart pounding out of his chest, so it was Dex who asked, "Cassie, what would you like us to show you first?"

* * *

Dex, it turned out, was a phenomenal actor. The fact that they looked like a convincing couple had everything to do with Dex. The entire morning, there didn't seem to be a single moment where Dex appeared to be uncomfortable, even though Derek knew—well, _figured_ he was. And while Dex was relaxed and acting like the two of them holding hands was a normal, everyday thing, Derek could not seem to find his chill, too preoccupied with the fact that it wasn't a normal, everyday thing. At least his mom was too enchanted by Dex to notice.

Afternoon granted reprieve, as all the parents on campus attended some kind of—seminar? Derek hadn't really paid that close attention to know for sure what was happening. All he knew was that while his mom was at that thing, whatever it was, he was going to the Haus to try and unwind a little.

He went inside and immediately began raiding the fridge for a pie—or something sweet. Something that he could eat that would hopefully make some of his stress go away.

"It's goin' that badly?" Bitty asked sympathetically, upon seeing Derek's almost frantic rummaging.

"Hey, uh," Derek said, bolting upright in surprise, narrowly avoiding banging his head on the roof of the refrigerator. "It's um—well, I uh guess you could say that," Derek sighed, walking over and slumping down at the table as Bitty took pity on him and began fixing up a plate of baked goods. "Dex—if I didn't know any better, you'd think that he actually is my boyfriend. Honestly, I'm not sure I _do_ know any better. It— _fuck_ , Bitty, he's so good at acting like he's my boyfriend that it feels real to me. And whenever I start feeling like that, I—I remember that it's not real and I—it makes me want to cry. Shit, why did I think this was a good idea?"

"I don't know," Bitty said, setting the now baked-good-loaded plate in front of him. "But of course, it ain't too late to tell your mama the truth.

"It's—this isn't about her. Or at least, it's not anymore. I'm just…fucked no matter what happens the rest of this weekend," Derek answered, sounding frighteningly hysterical to his own ears. He stopped and took a deep breath; coming completely unglued was _not_ going to help him here.

"Has he figured it out yet?" Bitty asked, joining Derek at the table.

"I don't think so," Derek answered around a mouth of pie. "I uh…I think I've been too tense all morning to show anything but—maybe that's giving me away too."

"If he don't know anythin', then you're still good," Bitty replied.

"But my mom is staying with us and—that means Dex and I have to, you know, share his bed," Derek continued. "And I just _know_ I'm gonna cuddle or spoon him or do some shit like that in my sleep and it's gonna creep him out."

"Sweetheart, relax," Bitty chuckled softly, comfortingly putting a hand on his shoulder. "You can't be held responsible for the things you do in your sleep."

"Yeah," Derek said, breathing deeply again. "Yeah, okay, I guess you're right. I know I should've listened to you earlier but. Thanks for, you know, still listening to me. And helping me out."

"Of course Nursey," Bitty replied warmly.

Derek sat with Bitty in the kitchen while he got to work baking pies for the hockey parents to take home, enjoying the relative quiet, the only noises being Bitty's soft music and the dings and clinks of cooking utensils. He didn't go back to his and Dex's apartment until just before his mom was supposed to get back. He didn't know what Dex had been doing all afternoon, but what he found was certainly not something he was expecting.

Dex was humming quietly to himself while in the seldom-used kitchen in their apartment. He was making—well, it wasn't anything impressive, just spaghetti, but Dex was _cooking_. Plus there was a batch of cookies sitting out on wire cooling racks (Derek didn't even know they _had_ wire cooling racks). Derek stopped in his tracks and stared for a minute—or it could've been five, he wasn't sure. He didn't mean to stare. It's just. Dex. Being all domestic and shit. That was— _fuck_ , that was really attractive.

"I know we're both hockey players and that the cold doesn't really bother us, but I'm sure your mother would appreciate the apartment being somewhat warm by the time she gets back," Dex remarked, a light tone to his voice as he looked back at Derek over his shoulder. Dex's voice was enough to snap Derek out of his haze and he quickly pulled the door shut behind him.

"Cooking, hmm? We're really going all out, rolling out the red carpet for her. You know she's going to start expecting this from us every time she visits," Derek chirped as a distraction, mostly for himself, hoping that Dex wouldn't notice the pinkness to his cheeks (or at least attribute it to the chilly air outside), or the fact that he had used _us_ instead of _me_.

"I like your mom. She's pretty cool and I—I just wanted to do something nice for her. And besides, she thinks I'm your boyfriend. I can't have her thinking that I don't know how to take care of you," Dex replied, having the audacity to say that and then _blush_ , and Derek swore he was about to fucking swoon. _Swoon_. He wasn't a southern belle, _what the fuck_? What the hell did Dex think he was doing?

For an awkward moment, Derek didn't dare to move, afraid that he would actually fall, his legs felt so weak, and they just stood there, blushing at each other in silence, but that was soon broken by Derek's mom knocking on the door.

"I got it," Derek mumbled, finally getting his legs underneath him and quickly turning away to open the door as his cheeks flushed darker.

* * *

Derek's mom was certainly impressed by Dex's meal, even if it was something simple that almost all hockey players knew how to make. She was probably mostly impressed that Dex took the effort to cook, rather than the meal itself.

"It was nothing," Dex had shrugged humbly as he cleared the dishes off the table and—Derek couldn't help the hearts in his eyes.

"I don't know about you boys, but I think I'd just like to spend the evening in," his mom yawned, stretching as she stood up from the table. "How would you feel about a movie?"

"Yeah, sure, sounds great mom," Derek replied as he trailed Dex into the kitchen to help him wash the dishes. "I think she likes you better than me now," he said once the water was running and mostly covered their voices.

"She does not, shut the fuck up," Dex said, swatting him with the dish rag he was holding, and Derek giggled.

Looking at Dex, his face slightly flushing as he scrubbed the plates, the two of them together the perfect picture of domesticity, Derek was once again hit harshly upside the head with the knowledge that this was all just a charade, and while all of his feelings were real, Dex's just weren't.

"It's gonna crush her when she finds out this wasn't real," Derek sighed. He needed to say it out loud, to give himself a stronger reminder of what this was.

"You're actually going to tell her?" Dex asked, astonished.

"Well, not while she's still here obviously," Derek explained. "And I don't know if I'll tell her _that_ , but you know, I'll have to tell her _something_ happened. That we like, broke up, or whatever."

"Oh, right, of course," Dex replied quietly. "I'm uh, done with these so just, rinse and dry. We'll put them back later," he added before rapidly slinking out of the kitchen. Derek blinked, glancing at the spot where Dex had been standing. That was...odd. It was almost like what he'd said had upset Dex. Which would mean—and no, he wasn't going there because. That couldn't possibly be right. He probably just like—got something in his eye and needed to go to the bathroom—or something like that.

He finished up drying the dishes and put them away, even though Dex said he didn't have to. He could handle it, he knew where everything went _thank you very much_. By the time he went back out into the living room, he found his mom sprawled out on the couch and Dex sitting on the only other piece of furniture in their living room, a tiny armchair.

Dex shrugged sheepishly and then patted his lap, motioning for Derek to come over.

"You're not transparent as you think you are mom," Derek grumbled, awkwardly trying to perch on the armrest.

"Wasn't trying to be," his mom sang as Dex snagged his arm.

"Actually sit on my lap, idiot," Dex whispered, tugging on his arm gently. Derek was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion over the day's events and didn't really have the will to argue, so he just did as he was told, stiffly curling up on Dex's lap as he put up the footrest.

"Just so you know, she's going to insist on watching some sappy romance movie," Derek murmured, fighting the urge to nuzzle his head in Dex's neck as Dex curled an arm around him.

"Just as long as it's not _The Notebook_ ," Dex chuckled under his breath. "Thanks to my sisters, I've seen that movie too many times to count."

"How does _Titanic_ sound to everyone?" his mom interrupted. Derek figured she would probably choose that one; it was both his and his mom's favorite movie, not that he'd ever admit that to Dex.

"Sure," Dex answered amiably while Derek feigned indifference. "God, don't tell me you're too hipster to watch _Titanic_ ," Dex rolled his eyes.

"Trust me dear, he's not," his mother laughed. "He just wants you to think he is. It's really his favorite movie."

"Traitor," Derek grumbled, "Already selling out all my secrets to Dex."

That made both Dex and his mom giggle at him as the movie started playing (and _wow_ , would he love to make Dex giggle again).

* * *

It was his favorite movie, but Derek was just so drained, he was fast asleep with his head on Dex's shoulder by the time the _"draw me like one of your French girls, Jack"_ scene happened. And he slept until sniffling close to his ear him woke him up.

 _"…there's a boat Jack…"_ the TV echoed as he shifted slightly.

"No, go back to sleep," Dex whispered, using a hand to cover Derek's eyes.

 _"I'll never let go Jack…"_

Sniffle.

"Are you crying Dex?" Derek questioned.

"Shut up, I said go back to sleep."

"Oh my God, you're crying, that's adorable," Derek said sleepily.

"Oh whatever," Dex said dismissively, but from his head's place on Dex's shoulder, Derek could feel the heat of Dex's blush radiating off his face. Derek snuggled closer to him; figuring that if Dex wanted to get pissed at him for that later, he could blame it on his sleepy haze and the fact that Dex was a surprisingly comfortable pillow, and probably get away with it.

He managed to stay awake enough to watch the rest of the movie, after which they all went to their rooms. Derek walked into Dex's room and was immediately struck by how small his bed looked. Logically, it was the same size as his, and he shouldn't have been caught off-guard but. There wasn't much space for them to share. Their beds barely fit them individually.

"You sure you don't want me to take the floor?" Derek inquired, looking questioningly between Dex and the bed.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Dex answered, shifting back and forth on his the balls of his feet uncomfortably. "We'll—I guess we'll have to spoon to fit but that's. That's okay. It's just what we have to do, right?"

"Right man, it's totally chill. However you want to do it," Derek replied. It was—well it was strange that Dex seemed to be fine with what they did while watching the movie but wasn't comfortable with spooning but. Derek guessed that it was a different situation. Spooning was a lot more...well, intimate. So he understood.

Dex exhaled, visibly more relaxed as he gestured for Derek to climb in under the covers, which he did without hesitation. Derek shivered when he felt Dex press up against his back, loosely hanging an arm over his stomach as his breaths ghosted over the back of Derek's neck. It was. _Fuck_ , this was really comfortable and he...he wished that this wasn't going to be the only time it was ever going to happen.

"G'night Nursey," Dex mumbled. Derek hummed in acknowledgement and not long after that, Dex was snoring softly.

Derek wanted to stay awake, savor the moment for as long as possible, but it was just. Too much. He fell asleep not long after Dex.

* * *

Derek woke up alone.

He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. Dex probably flipped out the second he woke up, but at least Derek wasn't responsible, since Dex was the one who suggested they do it in the first place.

Derek blearily stumbled out to the kitchen and was immediately hit by the smell of coffee and bacon.

"Morning Nursey," Dex said quietly, pressing a mug into his hands.

Derek sniffed the air again, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "You're cooking again?" he asked, hopping up onto one of the kitchen counters.

"Just thought your mom might like a breakfast that wasn't cereal," Dex shrugged, poking at the eggs and bacon strips.

Derek hummed in agreement, taking in the scene in front of him. Dex making eggs and bacon in baggy sweats and a worn-out t-shirt. That was something Derek wouldn't mind waking up to quite often in the future.

But that wasn't going to happen, and what's worse, Dex had probably flipped out about last night and that definitely meant they needed to talk about it.

"Dex," Derek sighed, setting his mug down. "About last night—"

"Don't Derek. Just don't," Dex said grimly. "Not—not while your mom is still here."

Which. Okay, Dex didn't want to have his homophobic freak out in front of his mom. That was fair.

"Ow!" Dex winced, recoiling from the stove.

"Are you okay?" Derek said, his voice laced with concern, quickly hopping down from the counter and crossing over to where Dex was standing, grimacing as he clutched his hand.

"What? No, yeah, I'm fine it's nothing," Dex said hurriedly. "Just brushed my hand up too close to the pan. I'll run it under some cold water and be okay."

"Are you sure? Cause I think we've got like some kinda cream or something for that," Derek frowned, looking at Dex with more worry visible on his face than was likely a good idea, but he couldn't help it.

"Yeah, yeah, I mean, you already can't even see it," Dex said, holding his hand up for Derek to see. Without thinking, he reached up and grabbed it, inspecting carefully.

"Alright, if you say so," Derek said, eyeing a blushing Dex suspiciously. "But don't do it again. Remember, I'm supposed to be the clumsy one around here," he added as a half-hearted chirp in an attempt to lighten the strange tension that had settled over them.

"Dex, you are an absolute gem!" his mom exclaimed as she entered the kitchen. "It's like you can read my mind, I was just thinking I wanted some bacon this morning."

"Mom, when do you ever not want bacon with breakfast?" Derek teased, quickly hugging his mom before retreating to his spot on the counter.

"Oh, so that's where you get it from," Dex smirked.

"Well you know," Derek shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree and all that shit."

"Does your mom eat a whole plate of bacon by herself too?" Dex chirped, pulling the strips from the frying pan and carrying them out on a plate to the table.

"She could," Derek murmured, earning a playful smack from his mother as they followed Dex.

"You know, if this is the kind of treatment I get when I'm here, I might have to find a way to come visit you two more often," she grinned as he took a bite of bacon. "Mmm, perfect, just the right crispiness," she continued on, not noticing the way Derek kept his eyes trained on his plate or the way Dex frowned and looked everywhere but at Derek.

* * *

They didn't say much to each other after breakfast when they took off for the game. Or during strategy. Or during the actual game, which was one of their worst as a pair. Or even while they said goodbye to Derek's mom. It was. Well, it was probably official, Derek thought bitterly as they sat, not speaking to each other on their couch. He had ruined their friendship.

When the silence got to be too much to bear, Derek stood up, having decided to go to his room and just. Hide from Dex for the rest of the year (practice and games excluded).

"Derek, wait," Dex said suddenly, reaching for his arm as he moved to walk past.

Derek took a deep breath. "Yeah?" he replied, not missing the way Dex's jaw was set and one of his hands was white-knuckling the armrest, or the way he'd used his first name instead of Nursey. _Shit_. Dex wasn't going to ignore him, he was actually going to tell him to fuck off.

"I—can you sit down for a minute?"

Derek tried to shrug nonchalantly as he plopped down.

"Look I—fuck Derek, I'm so sorry. I—I thought I could do this," Dex gasped, his breathing abruptly becoming labored.

"Chill Dex, it's completely chill. I mean, it—it's totally my fault, and _I'm_ sorry. I knew it made you uncomfortable and I shouldn't have even asked you to do it," Derek sighed, wringing his hands as he stared at the trees, bending under the wind right outside their window.

"That's not why, Derek. I'm—I wasn't uncomfortable. I wouldn't have done it if I was."

"Oh," Derek said, turning his head to gaze at Dex blankly. "Then I don't understand. What is this about?"

"Uh," Dex stuttered, biting his lip nervously. "All weekend I've been…you know…and you haven't said a word about it…and I don't understand why."

"I don't—what are you talking about Dex?" Derek questioned, raising his eyebrows quizzically. Dex was always right to the point with what he had to say, so him being this cryptic was—concerning.

"Look, if you're not interested, just tell me. I can handle it," Dex said unsteadily, his eyes starting to glisten as tears threatened to fall. Which. _What?_

"Interested? Will, what the fuck? I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," Derek responded sharply, raising his voice ever so slightly as he stared Dex down.

"I've been trying to woo you all weekend and you haven't even responded once so if you don't like me please just tell me," Dex said, the words coming out so rushed it sounded like one.

"W-what?" Derek croaked, falling against the back of the couch in a daze, his heart beating wildly in his chest. There was no way he heard that right. "You've been trying—t-to woo me?"

"Yeah," Dex nodded, avoiding his eyes. "D-did you not even realize?"

"No," Derek whispered. "I just. Thought you were putting on a show for my mom. And I was too busy trying to make sure you didn't notice."

"Notice what?"

"That I like you," Derek answered, his voice barely audible.

"You do?" Dex squeaked out, watching him with wide-eyes.

Derek nodded, and then Dex was leaning over. Derek met him halfway, pressing his lips to Dex's like he'd been dreaming of doing for months. Dex's lips were soft (if not slightly chapped), and Derek smiled into the kiss as he put a hand on the back of Dex's neck. They were both smiling and breathing heavily by the time they pulled apart.

"Wooing me, huh? What am I, the heroine of a novel set in Victorian England?" Derek chirped with a smirk on his face. Dex rolled his eyes, but didn't tell him to shut up. He _made_ him shut up. And, yeah. That was a nice change.


	4. Ready and Waiting

**Summary:** _Even after almost four years and no contact, Derek's heart still belongs to Dex._

* * *

 _Title from_ One Sweet Love _by Sara Bareilles._

 _This came from a Reuniting AU post on Tumblr, but I didn't really write it as an AU lol...the prompt though was: "I just found out through social media/mutual friends that you're gay/bi/pan/etc. do you know how many times I did not make a move" AU. So this happened._

 _Lots of hugs to my beta-er, dazeli*tumblr*com :)_

 _Originally posted on as an individual fic, but now moved to this combined oneshot fic posting_

* * *

Derek blinked as he looked at his screen again. There was that familiar smiling, freckled red-head, and the words _"I'm gay"_. Together.

Derek stopped himself before his heart started beating too fast. He was on _Facebook_. This prank was almost as old as Facebook itself. Steal someone's phone, get on their account and post a fake coming out status. That had to be what happened to him.

Except there was a comment from him, assuring everyone that he hadn't been hacked. _Fuck_.

Dex had been his defenseman partner and (after a somewhat rough start) his best friend in college. And, oh yeah, did he mention that he'd ended up falling in love with him? He'd been victim of the age old curse of being queer: falling for someone who wasn't. 3½ years he'd had to deal with that, with the knowledge that he couldn't do anything about it, no matter how much he'd wanted to. Now, it turns out he could have, and Derek wanted to kick himself (never mind that back then, he'd never had any indication that Dex was anything but straight).

Now he knew, and Derek really wanted to drive to wherever Dex was and kiss him, and tell him how long he'd wanted to do that, how he'd fallen in love with him and how he'd never been able to move on, how much he still loved him.

But he couldn't, because he hadn't spoken to Dex in almost four years. About a year after they'd graduated, Dex had just—stopped responding to him, and no matter how much Derek had pushed, no matter how many messages he'd sent, no matter how many times he'd tried to call and Skype. And so Derek stopped trying, even though it was torture to do. He just had to accept that Dex didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

That didn't stop Derek from commenting on Dex's status, congratulating him on coming out though. Derek let out a deep sigh; how did Dex still have him wrapped so tightly around his finger? Rather than try and answer that question, he went to bed, and so he missed Dex's reply:

 _Thanks Nursey :)_

* * *

Chowder called after Derek got out of work the next day to talk about Dex, by which point Derek had already forgotten about what happened.

"Did you see?!" Chowder asked excitedly when he answered, before Derek could even say hello.

"Did I see what?" Derek answered, pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he slowly made his way around his kitchen, making his afternoon cup of tea.

"Dex came out!" Chowder replied enthusiastically. "I thought you would've been all over that!"

 _Right, that was a thing that happened last night._

"Oh yeah," Derek responded flatly. Chowder knew about how he felt for Dex (but Derek hadn't told him until Dex had stopped replying to him), so of course Chowder would bring it up (in a well-meaning way). "I didn't know he was gay, but it's a good thing for him, you know he's finally feeling it's okay to be himself after all these years."

"Yeah, it's great! All the comments are so support—" Chowder stopped suddenly, causing Derek to pause as he was taking a sip of his tea. "Oh my _God_ , he replied to your comment!" he blurted out in astonishment.

" _What?"_ Derek coughed, choking on the sip he'd just taken. Once he was done hacking, he quickly fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Facebook on his phone. There it was, buried among a bunch of other notifications so that he hadn't noticed:

 _Thanks Nursey :)_

"Oh my God," Derek whispered, stumbling backward to sit down on stool in his kitchen. That was about the last thing he expected to happen. He figured it would just be another ignored attempt at communication with Dex that he could add to his long list of ignored attempts.

"Maybe this means he's going to talk to you again!" Chowder suggested ecstatically. That made Derek come crashing back down to Earth. It was just one comment, it most likely didn't have some grander meaning.

"Or maybe he was just automatically replying to all the comments and didn't realize he was replying to mine," he frowned, sighing dejectedly. Dex hadn't sent him a private message, or texted him, or done anything to suggest that it wasn't just an accidental reply, one that happened as a result of replying to hundreds of comments all night.

"You never know!"

"I appreciate your positivity C, but I don't think so," Derek shrugged. "I'd rather not get my hopes up."

"Okay," Chowder replied, his perkiness not a bit dampened by Derek's melancholy attitude. He paused before changing the subject. "Hey, Bitty wanted me to ask if you're coming to the alumni weekend at Samwell in two weeks."

"Oh yeah, of course I'll be there," Derek answered. He'd never turn down the chance to see all his friends. He still talked to them frequently through text and Skype, even though they didn't get together very often.

"That's great Bitty will be so excited and I'm coming too I can't wait to see everyone again especially you and Bitty!" Chowder rambled joyfully and Derek chuckled.

"Yeah, it'll be great to see you too C."

As he said goodbye and hung up, he wasn't hoping that there would be a certain person coming (shut up, he _wasn't_ ).

* * *

Derek drove up to the Haus, and as he put the car in park, he was already getting lost in all the best memories of his time living there. Memories of which very few involved Dex—shit, that was a _terrible_ lie, almost all of them involved Dex in one way or another. But he wasn't going to let himself spend the weekend getting caught up in reminders of what he'd had while he was here (and what he'd since lost). He shouldered his bag and walked up to the door, the smells of vanilla, cinnamon, and maple wafting their way to his nose.

" _Bitty and Jack must already be here,"_ he thought to himself. Bitty probably arrived very early. Derek wouldn't be surprised if did because he wanted to get a head-start on all the things he planned to bake for the weekend.

"Hello?" Derek called out as he closed the front door behind him.

"We're all in the kitchen!" Bitty yelled back cheerfully. Derek dropped his bag with the others in the living room and stepped into the kitchen. Jack, Shitty, Lardo and Chowder were all sitting down at the table, the current Haus residents huddled around them while Bitty flitted around, baking pies, and it was like Derek was transported back in time nine years to his freshman year.

"Nursey!" Chowder shouted, leaping up to hug him. Chowder got there first, but almost immediately he followed by all his friends, being engulfed in a kind-of celly. It made Derek's heart ache to go back to those days, when they were all here under this roof, not scattered across the country.

"It's so 'swawesome to be here with all you guys," Derek grinned, walking to lean up against the fridge, out of Bitty's way.

"Yeah brah, it is," Shitty said, leaning back and stroking his pornstache (which, shockingly, despite being a lawyer, he still had). "Remember the time when…"

And just like, they all launched into reminiscing about their days in the Haus. Shitty brought up the time Bitty hid under the table when Ransom and Holster were trying to set him up for Winter Screw, which of course summoned them to crash through the front door together.

Derek looked around at all his friends, watching as they went through the same routine with Ransom and Holster as they did with him, thinking about everything that happened, everywhere they'd been, and everything they'd accomplished since they'd graduated.

Jack had won Rookie of the Year, two Stanley Cups and led the NHL in points the last four seasons (which had resulted in three Hart Memorial Trophies), and perhaps more importantly, gotten his shit together, asked Bitty (who was now the host of The Food Network's top rated show) out and became the NHL's first out-and-proud player. They'd gotten married two years ago in one of the most beautiful ceremony's Derek had ever had the pleasure of being a part of.

Shitty (now known in his professional life as Bernard) had become one of the top LGBTQ+ and gender identity rights lawyers in the world, and Lardo was a world-renowned sculptor. She and Shitty weren't anything official (because, in their words, _fuck societal expectations of how relationships should be defined_ ), but they'd been living together for the last four years, so they were pretty much a couple.

Chowder had moved back to California, and had gotten a job working with (to no one's surprise) sharks as a marine biologist. He and Farmer had gotten married at the end of their senior year, and now had three boys that were basically mini-Chowder's running around in Shark's gear (who, for the purposes of this weekend, he'd left with Farmer back in Cali).

Ransom and Holster hadn't left each other's side in the time since they'd left Samwell. Holster had followed Ransom to med school, and claimed to be the only reason Ransom had actually survived, something Ransom never refuted. No one quite knew for sure, but about a year ago, they'd stopped seeing other people, and so they all assumed that they had started dating each other, but there hadn't been any kind of official announcement or any outward indication that the nature of their relationship had changed (it was on the unofficial "list" of things Derek wanted to figure out this weekend).

Derek himself had become a published poet, selling hundreds of thousands of copies of each of his poetry collections (most of the poems being about missed opportunities and unrequited love; critics often pointed out his extensive, almost excessive use of fiery imagery, which of course, had absolutely _nothing_ to do with Dex). The only downside to his post-college life was the way he was still hung up on someone who, until a few weeks ago, hadn't even acknowledged his existence in years.

Derek was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening again. He was surprised; thought everyone that was coming was already here. Given the way everyone's heads turned (minus Bitty, who appeared to be completely engrossed in his baking), he wasn't the only one. There was brief exchange of looks between everyone before whoever it was turned the corner, and then Derek stopped breathing for a moment.

He'd been seeing pictures of Dex for years on Facebook (he'd never been blocked, just ignored), but seeing Dex in front of him, Derek came to the conclusion that there was a lot that those pictures missed or features they softened. The way Dex's jaw and cheeks were sharper, his shoulder more muscular and square, his amber eyes brighter, his hair a more brilliant red, and even the way his adorably ridiculous ears stuck out from his head were more than a camera could ever possibly capture.

"H-hey guys," Dex croaked anxiously, and their eyes met briefly before a shout went up and Dex was enveloped by a swarm of ex and current hockey players. And Derek—he just stood and stared. Dex was smiling; a true smile, one of happiness that reached his eyes, something he hadn't been doing in pictures for a long time. Dex—he was happy to be here, and that made Derek smile and his heart leap.

Once the crowd dissipated, Dex walked over to him.

"Hey Nurse," he said quietly, playfully punching Derek's arm lightly.

"Hey asshole," Derek replied bitterly before he could stop himself, because yeah, he was angry about how Dex just cut him off. He couldn't come here and say "hey" and make Derek forget about how much he had hurt him.

"Yeah, I deserve that," Dex mumbled, taking a small step forward and flushing out of shame (and boy, did Derek miss the way Dex blushed). "But—can we not do this in front of everyone?" he leaned in, whispering into Derek's ear.

"Sure man, it's—" Derek said loud enough for everyone to hear (only because he knew his answer wouldn't give anything away), pausing for dramatic effect, a smirk playing across his lips—he hadn't done this in a long time and he was going to _savor_ it. _"Chill."_

The entire kitchen groaned and Dex rolled his eyes as he shuffled back towards the table.

"Nice to see you haven't changed much bro," Holster remarked, shaking his head.

* * *

Once Bitty had finished what he had been making, they all made the trek down to Faber. They were going to play an easy scrimmage, the old team versus the new.

When they started walking, Dex grabbed Derek's arm, slowing him down until they were trailing a few steps behind the rest of the pack. They walked close to each other, arms brushing together every few steps.

"I'm really sorry Derek," Dex said, watching the ground below his feet carefully as he spoke. Derek had never seen Dex look this small; his hands were in his pockets, his shoulders were hunched over, and his voice was quiet. It was a total antithesis to the way Dex was the last time Derek saw him in person (which, fuck, that was graduation).

"I know we weren't Ransom and Holster by any stretch of the imagination, but I thought we were best friends. It really hurt me when you stopped talking to me," Derek sighed. He wanted to stay indignant about it, if only because that indignation would keep some kind of barrier between them, but it was Dex. He just couldn't. Dex was clearly upset and apologetic about what happened and he—he didn't think he couldn't hold it against him—or at least not for very long.

"If it means anything, it hurt me a lot too."

"Then why did you do it?"

Dex blew out a breath and was quiet for a while. "I—I don't think I have reason that doesn't come down to me being a coward. I—I lost most of my friends that way. I—if it wasn't for Bitty tracking me down, I wouldn't even be here for this. He uh, he literally drove to my apartment with Shitty to tell me to get my 'sorry ass to Samwell. It's not fucking negotiable, brah.'"

"Well, I'm glad you're here. Really, I am," Derek replied, knocking into Dex's shoulder. "You seemed really happy when the guys were hugging you."

"Yeah," Dex ducked his head and grinned slightly. "I am happy to be here. It's nice not be alone, you know?"

"You never had to be alone. We all tried to be there for you, but you just shut us out. There wasn't anything we could do," Derek shrugged, sadly looking at Dex.

"I know. I realize that now. Just—thanks for, you know, not hating me after—"

"I never once hated you," Derek interrupted, because it was true. Never once in the years they hadn't been speaking had he ever hated Dex. Maybe he was frustrated with him, disappointed in him, but he didn't hate him.

"Thanks," Dex murmured, brushing their shoulders together again as they walked into Faber. "I don't ever want to do that again, I—I really missed everyone."

Dex quickly cut into the locker room, and Derek wasn't sure if the way Dex said it meant anything, or if he was simply hearing what he wanted to hear.

* * *

He and Dex ended up paired up as D-men for the scrimmage of course. And out on the ice, the chemistry was still there like the last time they'd played together was just the day before. They played like they could read each other's minds, completely shutting down the new SMH team (who were the defending D-I National Champions). On the strength of their defensive play and Jack and Bitty still being completely in sync, scoring two goals together, they won the scrimmage 3-1.

But the best moment was when Derek scored the third goal off an assist from Dex. Dex slammed into him, hugging him and grinning widely. Just to have Dex close to him again made Derek feel warm and bubbly inside in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

Later, back at the Haus, everyone had a couple beers, and he and Dex sat close to each other, Derek buzzing with electricity at the way their thighs were touching. Knowing that he had a chance added a different edge to the way the alcohol settled in his stomach, but it wasn't bad. He liked the feeling.

Also, he _may_ have had a few extra drinks, since he knew he was staying at the Haus overnight, and he was just short of being completely schwasted.

"Hey," Derek giggled, lolling his head onto Dex's shoulder. Everyone was engrossed in their own conversations, so it was just the two of them on the couch, in their own little bubble. "I'm really happy to see you again."

"Yeah, me too," Dex smiled. "I missed everyone so much."

There it was again. _Everyone._ He said _everyone_ , but Derek couldn't tell if his tone was suggesting that he was communicating something completely different.

"I know, you said that already," Derek slurred, the alcohol in him and his newfound knowledge giving him a kind of bravery he hadn't had with Dex before. "But did you miss _me_?"

Dex looked down at him, a strange look crossing his face as he put an arm around his shoulders. "Yeah, of course I did. I think I missed you the most, Derek."

Derek's heart sped up and jumped into his throat at Dex's admission. "Y-you really mean that?" Derek asked hopefully. He wasn't sure if this was actually happening or if he was just having some strange alcohol-induced dream.

"Yeah, I do. I—it's why I came out. I knew I was coming here and I—" Dex said quietly, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly back and forth across Derek's clavicle. "I wanted to see you—wanted to know if I still had a chance."

" _Will—"_ Derek gasped, struck dumbfounded and breathless by Dex's words.

"I know I probably don't have any right asking this, after everything that happened but—" Dex started and stopped, taking a deep breath, his face steadily turning red and his eyes beginning to shine. "I really like you. A lot. I have since our second year here. It's been for long enough that even with all the time apart, I'm pretty sure that I love you—and that's why I did everything I did. I was scared and didn't want to come out and didn't know what to do. So I ran, like the—"

"Will, don't," Derek interjected, placing a hand over Dex's mouth to stop him from saying he was a coward again, his heart soaring. "I don't care. None of that matters to me."

"But—"

Derek surged up and kissed him quiet. All the pieces fit together perfectly, and everything Dex did made perfect sense. He was just scared and—Derek knew what Dex's family was like. Shit, if Derek had been in the same place Dex was, he'd have probably done the same thing.

"I don't care," Derek whispered, cupping his face and stroking Dex's cheeks with his thumbs as the room fell silent. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, the room had been silent for a while. "And you've always had a chance, because I love you too."

Dex smiled and giggled, leaning over and returning the favor, kissing him (to thunderous applause).

"Absolutely touching bros," Ransom commented from his place on Holster's lap (when had that happened? Also that answers that question…).

"Wait, does anyone remember who had what in the betting pool?" Holster questioned as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"I still have it somewhere on my phone," Lardo proclaimed, pulling it up.

"You guys were betting on us?" Dex asked, ducking his head and blushing furiously.

"Yeah, but you weren't the only ones," Lardo shrugged. "We had one on Jack and Bitty too."

"Y'all are too much!" Bitty squeaked as Jack tightened the arm around his shoulders. "Also, who won?"

Lardo raised her hand as she continued to squint at the screen.

"I was only off by a little," Derek grumbled and Dex chuckled at him.

"Doesn't count," Lardo smirked. "Alright, here we go. Let's see—well, would you look at who won," she chuckled as everyone else started chucking pillows at her.

Derek snuggled in closer to Dex's side as everyone else exchanged money, shaking his head at his ridiculous friends.

"I know," Dex muttered in agreement.

But Derek was glad he had them all. And he was glad he had Dex back, even if it took a while and even if it was in a different way than before.


	5. Nursey Patrol

**Summary:** _Nursey Patrol is a fixture of kegsters. So why isn't Dex ever asked to do it?_

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _So I wrote more Nursey/Dex because God I just love these two big, dumb hockey nerds...but anyway, I got a request to do a fic about Nursey Patrol and I knew there was already one out there, so I tried to put my own twist on it. Also, this is the first NurseyDex fic I've ever written from Dex's POV (if you can believe that), so there's that. Hope you like it :)_

 _It's a totally lame title, but I got nothing else good lmao_

 _Originally published on AO3 and Tumblr on February 2, 2016_

* * *

It wasn't a question of whether Nursey could hold his alcohol, because he was just as good at it as the rest of the Haus. No, Nursey Patrol was created because Nursey was known to do—crazy things when he got schwasted. After the time they caught him dancing on one of the Haus' rickety tables (something Dex hadn't seen happen, but something the entire team had insisted on telling him the story of), nobody wanted to know what other bizarre things Nursey might try to do.

Dex understood that. What he didn't understand was why _he_ was never asked to be on Nursey Patrol. That duty was always passed between Ransom, Holster and Shitty (they briefly tried having Chowder do it, but the sweet goalie kid got schwasted way too fast and was just generally useless at it). It irritated Dex; he could handle Nursey, and probably do it better than any of those three could. And he made a point of telling Ransom and Holster that while they were discussing it during prep for the Haus' upcoming kegster.

"Bro, is it your turn to do Nursey Patrol or mine?" Holster asked Ransom as they carted in a nearly endless supply of beer into the Haus.

"I could do it," Dex remarked casually. "I can handle Nursey."

A strange look crossed Holster's face and he accidentally dropped the six-pack he was holding and glanced over at Ransom. "Yeah bro, we know you can."

"But bro, you're still a frog, and you should be experiencing the glory of the Haus during kegsters, not stuck chasing Nursey around like you're his babysitter," Ransom chimed in suspiciously quickly, though that could've been their strange mind-meld kicking in too.

"I've experienced plenty of kegsters already. Like bros, they're all pretty much the same, it's not like I'd be missing much," Dex frowned. He wasn't sure how, but Nursey Patrol had ended up keeping Nursey from hanging out with him, and kegsters were actually getting pretty boring without him (not that he'd ever admit it).

"Yeah, but—don't you already spend a lot of time with Nursey?" Holster questioned while communicating (via eyebrows) with Ransom in a panic; Dex had clearly caught them both off-guard.

"You must get sick of him," Ransom added slowly, nodding slightly as he read Holster's face carefully.

At one time, Dex would've said yes, he did get sick of Nursey, but that didn't happen anymore. Nursey was—more than tolerable and Dex was starting to like having him around (not that he'd ever admit that either). But just because he wouldn't admit it, didn't mean that everyone hadn't noticed, so Ransom's comment didn't really make a lot of sense. Besides, Ransom and Holster spent way more time together than he and Nursey did.

"By that logic, you two must be sick of each other too," Dex shrugged, calling their bluff. Ransom and Holster were being squirrely about this, and Dex wanted to know why. "Besides, what about all that shit you say about the d-man bond and looking out for each other? Doesn't that mean something here?"

Ransom and Holster both froze for a long second.

"I—you know Rans, I think we forgot to buy that thing," Holster said evasively.

"Yeah Holtzy, we totally forgot to buy that thing, let's go back and get it," Ransom agreed, fleeing with Holster in a flash.

Huh, that was really...odd didn't even begin to cover it. They took off like they didn't have answer—or like they didn't _want_ to answer his question. That made Dex extremely suspicious; there was evidently something they didn't want him to know. Were it not something about Nursey, Dex would've shrugged it off and moved on. But this was Nursey and—okay, so maybe that was just him being nosy, but Dex wanted to know everything going on with Nursey. So he resolved to find out at that night's kegster.

* * *

Dex spent the first thirty minutes of the kegster, watching the door to the Haus keenly, waiting for Nursey to show (because he hadn't answered when Dex asked him if he wanted to walk over with him). When Nursey arrived, later than Dex expected, he quickly jumped up to meet him, only for Shitty to firmly plant himself in Dex's path.

"Brah, have you had any tub juice yet?" Shitty asked, shouting to be heard over the already raging party.

"I—no but I've been..." Dex answered, trailing off as he held up his mostly empty beer cup, straining to look around Shitty without being too obvious that he was doing it.

"Well then, bro, drink up!" Shitty exclaimed, shoving a cup into his free hand and pushing back into the crowd, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

Dex groaned; he couldn't see where Nursey was now. He retreated back to his spot along the wall, disappointedly sipping his tub juice (which, _wow_ , he still wasn't used to how boozy it was). After a few minutes, when leaning up against the wall by himself proved to be about as fun as watching paint dry, he made a split-second decision to down his cup and wander in the direction Nursey had been heading.

He made it two steps before Ransom was suddenly in his face.

"Dex! You, me, beer pong!" he declared and—was that a hint of his crazy eyes Dex was seeing? He didn't know why, because midterms were two weeks off but...

Dex blinked and, yeah, Ransom had a little bit of the crazy eyes going, which, turning down Ransom when he was doing that was never good idea. Even so, he gave it a shot—sort of. "Where's Holster?" Dex asked, confused. Ransom always played beer pong with Holster. He'd never seen Ransom play with _anyone_ other than Holster. Also whenever Rans was like this, Holster was somewhere nearby, keeping an eye on him.

"Oh, he's...busy," Ransom smirked, crudely gesturing towards the attic.

"Already?" Dex questioned, raising an eyebrow. The kegster had barely been going for forty-five minutes.

"Well, you know Holster," Ransom shrugged, grabbing Dex's arm and dragging him to the nearest beer pong table (because there were several).

"Not rea—" Dex began, because he'd never known Holster to vanish from a kegster so quickly, but he was cut off by Ransom shoving a ping pong ball in his hand.

"You go first," he said with a determined look in his eye.

Dex considered his options, then took a deep breath and tossed the ball.

* * *

Fifteen minutes and a lot of beer later (most of which was drunk by Dex for some reason), they had gotten soundly crushed by a couple of guys from the basketball team, and Dex found the room to be a lot less steady than it was before. He paused for a second, gathering his feet underneath him. He didn't get a step away from the table before he was yanked a completely different direction by Lardo.

"I'm gonna destroy you at flip cup," she offered up in explanation.

"I—I think I'd rather not," Dex swallowed thickly. The decision to down his cup of tub juice was looking worse by the second—literally. He was already feeling drunk enough that the entire room was fuzzy around the edges and he'd barely been at the party for more than an hour; he didn't want more alcohol. What he really wanted to do was to get some water and maybe to find Nursey. He wanted to—wait, why did he want to find Nursey? He was having a hard time remembering.

"It's funny that you think you get a choice in this," Lardo chuckled, insistently pulling on his arm.

"Huh?" he said, knitting his eyebrows together.

"You're the one that said that all kegsters were pretty much all the same," she grinned mischievously. "We're just rectifying that thinking."

 _Shit_ , he should've known better than to say that. He sighed and followed Lardo; he screwed himself so he might as well just accept his fate.

His coordination was already completely trashed, so flip cup was an unqualified disaster. He hadn't even flipped his first cup by the time Lardo was finished.

"Bottoms up Dex," she directed, pointing to the other two cups he hadn't even touched yet.

He drank them without complaint, and then, without warning, Holster was standing over him.

"Dex, it's time for you to do a keg stand!" Holster shouted, smacking Dex on shoulder.

"I'm gonna get alcohol poisoning," Dex mumbled even as he let Holster lead him toward the keg. He didn't have the resolve to resist, even though he wanted to.

"Do this and then you can join Bits in the kitchen for a while," he said as Ransom appeared on Dex's other side, lifting him into the air.

* * *

"I regret everything," Dex sighed, swaying unsteadily as he plopped down in a chair at the table. The whole room was spinning rapidly and it was starting to make him feel nauseous. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself on the chair.

"Yeah, I swear those boys are _ruthless_ when they decide it's your turn to get schwasted," Bitty replied sympathetically. Dex heard the sound of him setting a glass of water in front of him, and he opened his eyes, focusing hard on the table in front of him, trying to figure out which glass was the real one. "It's the middle one."

"Oh."

"Oh dear _Lord_ , you're drunk. Alright, just sit here," Bitty instructed, using his mother hen voice. "You're done for a while."

Dex nodded; he wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't even sure that he could stand without being in danger of falling over immediately. He heard a distinct thump, and it took him a second and twinge of pain to realize that the sound was his own head, making contact with the table.

"What's up with him?" he heard someone—Nursey ask Bitty. Dex turned his head to face him, his cheek resting on the cool, dark wood of the table.

"I've had tub juice, I've played beer pong and—I think I did a kegstand. And maybe I played flip cup with Lardo. I don't know." He wasn't sure; his memory was too hazy. "I'm so very drunk," he added to punctuate his point, giggling uncontrollably.

 _"Jesus,"_ Nursey muttered, concern contorting his features. "I'm sorry Bitty, I swear I told them to distract him, not give him alcohol poisoning."

Dex couldn't think of why he would need to be distracted, but then again, that was probably because of the alcohol racing through his body. Dex was having a very hard time thinking right now, period. Also he felt very sleepy. Honestly, the table's hard surface was feeling softer by the second.

Bitty and Nursey kept talking, but Dex couldn't focus on the words they were saying, so he just closed his eyes and tuned them out.

"Come on Dex, up you go," Nursey said some time later (Dex couldn't tell how long it had been; time felt like it was at a standstill), hooking his arm under Dex's armpits. Dex lazily threw his arm over Nursey's shoulder and let him pull him up. Nursey struggled under Dex's weight, but nonetheless began walking towards the front door of the Haus on his own. Dex lolled his head onto Nursey's shoulder and _woah_ , it was a little bony, but way more comfortable than the table.

"Dex," Nursey grunted. "Dex, you're going to have to help me here."

"Wha?" Dex replied slowly, his muscles of his jaw struggling to complete the word.

" _Walk_ , Poindexter," Nursey said, breathing heavily through his nose.

"What are you doing Nursey?" Dex heard Holster ask while he was in the process of trying to remember how his legs worked.

"Taking Dex back to his room," Nursey remarked with his teeth clenched.

"Is that really a good idea?"

"No," Nursey shrugged; or at least he tried. He couldn't really with his shoulders being used to support Dex. "But considering I can't trust you fuckers to actually be careful with him, I'm doing it anyway."

Nursey's teeth were still clenched and he sounded angry. _Unchill_ , even, which, if he had been sober, Dex would've been practically ecstatic about, because it would be the first time he'd ever seen Nursey not chill. But he was very drunk, so instead he mumbled " _Chill_ Nurse" without thinking about it, ripping a startled laugh from Nursey's throat.

"Alright Dex, I'll chill," Nursey said, still chuckling. "But seriously Holster, I got him. I'll be okay."

Holster shrugged and then they stepped outside into the cold night air.

* * *

It took them a while, but they eventually made it to Dex's dorm. Nursey paused, and Dex made a questioning noise. It was cold and he wanted to be inside and in bed. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

" _Shit_ , your roommate," Nursey muttered.

It took Dex a minute to string his thoughts together but, yeah, Nursey was right, his roommate was probably already asleep and would be pissed at the two of them stumbling in.

"Your room?" Dex suggested because Nursey didn't have a roommate, the mercifully privileged fucker. Nursey drew in a deep breath, his bright green eyes unfocused as he thought.

"I guess," he answered hesitantly, dragging Dex towards the door. They were both in the same dorm, so instead of going to the 4th floor where Dex's room was, they went to the 2nd instead, where Nursey's was.

Nursey struggled, trying to keep Dex upright while fishing in his pockets for his keys, but he got it after a moment. Dex felt himself being deposited on the bed when he suddenly remembered something. Nursey was leaning over him, so he clumsily reached up and snagged Nursey's shoulder with his hand.

"Nursey. Nursey? Why—why—distract me?" he asked, the sentence broken as his tired, drunk brain struggled to gather the words necessary to make a full sentence.

"It's—it's nothing important," Nursey frowned. "But I'm sorry that they did it by getting you way too drunk."

"M'fine," Dex mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Yeah, sure you are," Nursey scoffed, almost fondly. "Sleep well, Dex."

He was almost asleep already, but that didn't mean he didn't feel the kiss that Nursey pressed to his forehead a few seconds later, before he slipped into slumber.

* * *

Dex's mouth felt rough and dry like sandpaper and _shit_ , did his head hurt. Fuck Ransom, Holster, Shitty and Lardo for all working together to get him drunk like that (also wow, his memory was surprisingly good for how drunk he thought he got).

Dex sat up, groaning the whole way as his head protested every movement. When he opened his eyes, he found Nursey standing in front of him, holding out painkillers and a bottle of water. Dex mumbled his thanks and snatched them up, taking the pills and then downing the water quickly.

 _Nursey_. How he remembered, Dex didn't know because he was _so_ drunk, but Dex definitely recalled Nursey kissing his forehead right before he fell asleep. He remembered that, somehow, everything that happened yesterday was connected; Ransom and Holster's squirrely-ness, Ransom, Holster, Shitty and Lardo all trying to get him drunk, Nursey's forehead kiss. But he had no idea why.

"Why?" he blurted out, bolting back up.

" _Why_ what?" Nursey replied cryptically, looking at Dex with raised eyebrows.

"Yesterday. Everything. Why?"

"I already told you, it's nothing impor—"

"Shut the fuck up, of course it's something important," Dex cut him off sharply. "If it wasn't, then why do it in the first place?"

"So what if it is important?" Nursey answered, his voice flat and steady, but unease flickering in eyes. "What makes you think I'd actually fucking tell you why?"

"Because this is all about me, you dipshit!" Dex shouted, too irritated to care about the throbbing in his head his yelling was causing. "Did you really think you could go to all that trouble without me questioning why?"

"I don't know! Maybe!" Nursey responded, raising his voice enough to catch Dex off guard. They argued a lot, but he'd never heard Nursey raise his voice before; he was always too chill for that.

"Look, all I did was ask why Ransom and Holster why I was never on Nursey Patrol! I was just curious, and then they wouldn't answer me and—I just wanted to know what was going on, okay! You've started avoiding me a lot more lately and I—I thought we were past the point of hating each other!" Dex continued, his tone sounding surprisingly desperate to his own ears.

"Chill bro, I don't hate you," Nursey snorted.

"Oh really? Then what was last night?! That's not the kind of thing you do to your friends!" Dex argued, standing up and stepping into Nursey's space.

"That wasn't my fault! Shitty was the dumbass who thought the best way to distract you was to get you drunk off your ass!" Nursey countered, matching Dex's movement. That isn't really what he meant; he was talking about Nursey kissing his forehead and why he did _that_ and wait, they were standing really close all of the sudden.

"You still haven't explained why I needed distracting in the first place!"

" _Fine_ , if you have to know, it's because you were onto me!" Nursey huffed, and Dex could feel his puffs of warm air hitting his skin.

"Onto _you_? What the fuck does that mean?" Dex inquired, feeling genuinely confused. Why would he have been onto _Nursey_? He was just trying to find out why Ransom and Holster were acting so weird.

And then there wasn't any space between them and Nursey was kissing him and—

 _Nursey was kissing him_ and automatically he started kissing back, but internally, he was screaming. He may have been gay, but he'd never kissed another boy before and _fuck_ , he was not prepared for the way it made every nerve on his body light up like a Christmas tree. It was a breathtaking feeling and he'd kissed enough girls to know that _damn_ , Nursey was a good kisser. Dex put his hands on Nursey's broad shoulders to keep himself steady.

Nursey jolted at the touch, quickly wrenching himself away from Dex.

"Oh my God, I shouldn't have done that Dex, I'm so sorry," Nursey said, flushed and with a pained, apologetic expression on his face.

"What? No, don't apologize!" Dex squeaked. There was nothing wrong with Nursey kissing him because— _wow_ , he really liked that (also, why wasn't that freaking him out more?). "It's—it's really okay. Better than okay, actually."

Now it was Nursey's turn to squeak out a response.

"B-but I thought—"

"I'm pretty convincing, aren't I?" Dex shrugged. He had been hiding in the closet since he was thirteen, so he'd had a lot of experience pretending to be something he wasn't.

"S-so y-you're—"

"Yeah. I'm gay," Dex said, and the words came out easily, despite never having said them before. It was useless to deny that fact to Nursey, when Dex reacted like he did to being kissed by him.

"So do you—do you like me?" Nursey asked and Dex rolled his eyes at his wording.

"God Nursey, are we, like, in middle school?"

"Shut up Poindexter, I don't know how else to say it," Nursey retorted, walking over and punching Dex's shoulder playfully before settling down onto the bed next to him.

"Alright fine," Dex conceded, letting himself lean into Nursey slightly, grinning at the way it made his skin tingle with electricity. "Honestly, Derek, I've never thought about it."

"Oh."

"But I'd like—I'm willing to try it out," Dex shrugged. "It's not going to be—I don't want to just sleep with you," he ducked his head and blushed. "Though I do want to do that, I've never actually been in a relationship before so I—I want to do it for real."

"Oh thank fuck," Nursey sighed, reaching over to grab Dex's hand. "That's kinda all I've wanted from you for ages."

"Oh really? For how long?" Dex smirked.

"Nope, I'm not going to tell you," Nursey chuckled. "I know you want to know just so you can chirp me."

"Damn. You know me too well."

"I wouldn't say that yet," Nursey grinned, leaning over to kiss him. Dex rolled his eyes, because God, he was ridiculously transparent, but he still kissed back anyway, smiling the whole time.

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _I had a vision of Dex and Nursey's first kiss being during an argument lol_


	6. A Bad Day Turned Great

**Summary:** _...he really should like, say something, instead of standing there watching him like some kind of creeper, but he's turned on and completely mesmerized. Derek counts his reps silently in his head—_ _one…two…three_ _—_ _watching Dex's freckled shoulders, the way his deltoid and trapezius muscles across ripple as his body bobs up and down from the bar._

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _This fic was wholly inspired by and the following tag added by tina-warriorprincess: "_ #Dex doing pull ups in a doorway and Nursey's just like O.O and silently counting along" _._

 _I hadn't meant for this to become smut at first, but hey, it happens, and I think this is damn good smut anyway, despite not having written smut in like, three months. Hope you guys like it! :)_

 _Originally posted on AO3 and Tumblr on February 10, 2016_

 ** _Smut warning!_**

* * *

It had been a really shit day for Derek. His American Lit professor clearly hates students, if the test he took this morning was any indication. He was supposedly prepared and yet it still totally kicked his ass. Derek's about ninety-nine percent sure he failed. That was bad enough, but then at lunch, someone ran into him and made him spill his coffee on his shirt. And without time to go back to the Haus, he spent the entire afternoon with a huge stain on his shirt and smelling like coffee. He cut his last class a half hour early, in the hopes of avoiding things getting any worse, but it just wasn't to be, because on his way back to the Haus, he tripped, dropped his phone so the screen shattered, and scraped his knees up. Bitty, shockingly, didn't have any pie, so he's decided his next best option is just to collapse in bed and like, sleep until tomorrow. The day couldn't get any worse if he was asleep.

Derek trudges up to the attic and lets his backpack slide off his shoulder and drop onto the floor with a thud. Dex isn't at the desk, so Derek does a quick scan of the room to see where he is, and freezes when he sees him over by their closet. And his day goes from worse to worst.

Because Dex is wearing nothing but black compression shorts and a backward snapback on his head, and he's using the pull-up bar they'd put up over their closet door. He has on wireless headphones, and there's the sound of hard rock leaking from the earbuds.

Derek's already almost half hard, and he really should like, say something, instead of standing there watching him like some kind of creeper, but he's turned on and completely mesmerized. Derek counts his reps silently in his head— _one...two...three_ —watching Dex's freckled shoulders, the way his deltoid and trapezius muscles across ripple as his body bobs up and down from the bar. His mouth feels dry and his pulse starts racing as his eyes drift down to where Dex's ass is, perfectly shaped by his shorts, and below that, his thighs, thick and muscular.

Objectively, Derek knew Dex was hot. He doesn't stare in the locker room, but even so, you still notice things. And it's not like that's something that freaks Derek out. He's very chill about his sexuality. Girls are hot, boys are hot—just, people are hot. It really doesn't matter to Derek. He's always kinda had a thing for Dex, but now that he's spent a month sharing the attic with Dex, Derek is pretty sure Dex is like—and this is even with his ridiculously large ears and his ginger hair and his constant scowl—he's on some other level of hotness that kinda makes Derek feel like he's going to spontaneously combust on the spot— _fuck_ , Dex is just really _hot_ , okay?

"Huh?" Dex asks, dropping off the bar, landing on the floor with a solid thump as he pulls his earbuds out and hangs them over the bar.

 _Shit, did he just accidentally say his last thought out loud?_

"I uh," Derek stammers, grappling hopelessly for words. "N-nothing."

Dex's amber eyes narrow, and despite the serious look on his face, Derek can't help watching a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, in between his eyes, over his nose and coming to rest just above his upper lip. Derek's feeling a really strong urge to lean over and kiss it away. Instead, he clenches his fists and implores his body to get a grip.

"You're being really weird Nurse," Dex scowls and shakes his head. He reaches over and grabs a shirt that's draped over the desk chair and pulls it on, and Derek can't help his eyes following the hem, watching as Dex tugs it down and smooths it over his abs. When his eyes finally come back up to meet Dex's, Dex is frowning and biting his lip and whoa, when did they get this close? "You've been super weird for like—since we moved in here," Dex adds.

And that's fair, but it's not like Derek has any experience regarding what to do when you have to live with someone that you want to pin to the wall and kiss the fuck out of. And it's not all his fault because Dex has been like— _preening_ the whole time and Derek just can't say he's even been trying to keep his gazes subtle; so of course Dex picked up on it.

"W-well so have you," Derek stutters weakly in reply, and it's not like he's wrong for saying that, because Dex has been walking around the attic in minimal clothing _a lot_ for seemingly no reason. Dex leans in closer to him and Derek can feel his puffs of breath on his skin, and his entire body seems like it's on fire.

"Hmm, so maybe I have," Dex says darkly, smirking confidently, and _fuck_ if that isn't the sexiest thing Derek's ever seen. "What are you going to do about it, Nursey?"

He didn't start staring at Dex for the purpose of actually kissing him; he's not really sure it's a good idea. But Dex is challenging him, and he's using a low, throaty, _sexy_ voice and Derek's resolve just snaps like a twig run over by a semi-truck. He roughly seizes Dex's head and crashes their lips together. Dex doesn't seem remotely surprised, and he puts his hands on Derek's hips and pulls him so their bodies are flush.

Derek curls his fingers into Dex's hair and tugs gently in response, and Dex moans. It's a deep, guttural sound and it's also one of the hottest things Derek's ever heard. He groans, and Dex takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Derek's mouth and _fuck_ , Dex is really good at kissing. Derek wonders if there's anything else Dex is good at, and if he'll get the chance to find out.

His hips jerk up into Dex, and he's achingly hard and so is Dex. They really need to be wearing fewer clothes. Derek slips his hand up under Dex's shirt, carefully brushing his fingers over his nipples, and Dex shivers as Derek lifts the shirt up over his head. His hands come back down and settle on Derek's ass. He squeezes and Derek's hips buck up again, a flash of heat running through him as he feels his erection brush up against Dex's.

Dex pulls back and grins slyly, walking Derek backward towards the bottom bunk. He goes willing, letting Dex shove him onto the mattress. He scrambles to get horizontal, his head by his pillow while at the same time trying to rip his shirt off, and Dex settles down in between his legs and slowly, deliberately unhooks the button on his jeans. He slides his fingers under the waistband of Derek's underwear. Derek lifts his hips up and Dex pulls his underwear and jeans off and God, Derek is pretty sure he's going to die because Dex seems so sure, steady, and he's smirking at Derek's straining dick. It's just so, _so_ much, and in every imagining Derek's ever had about this moment, Dex was nervous and unsettled, not—so fucking _cocky_ (to excuse the pun) and it's so fucking arousing.

Then Dex wraps his fingers around him, stroking slowly and nope, this is the moment when he dies, because he gasps and he's not sure he can breathe in again, it feels so good.

"If you could only see how unchill you are right now," Dex snickers. That kills the mood for a second, and he draws in a breath, groaning and rolling his eyes in spite of the situation, because only William fucking Poindexter would have the nerve to talk to him about _chill_ while he's in middle of getting a handjob.

"W-we'll just see how chill you are when you're in this position," Derek replies breathily. Dex inhales sharply and blushes darkly and that's it, that's the Dex Derek was expecting to see. Also, since Dex isn't wearing a shirt, Derek can see that the blush goes all the way down to his chest and _shit_ , that's hot, and the mood is back already.

After a little bit of calm, deliberate stroking, Dex twists his wrist and then picks up speed. Derek swears loudly, thrusting his hips up into Dex's hand because, _fuck_ , he's really close.

"D-Dex," Derek pants, and that's all he can get out because his head is swimming and it's really hard to think of anything except Dex's hand on his dick and how good he feels. Dex looks up and licks his lips and that's it for him.

"Fuck!" he groans, snapping his eyes shut as he comes on his stomach and Dex's hand, so hard his toes are curling. Dex strokes him through it, and Derek lets his head fall back on the pillow, breathing deeply. It takes a few minutes for his brain to stop feeling fuzzy and—well, _shit_ , he didn't even think it was possible to come that hard.

Dex crawls up beside him and starts sucking on his skin where his neck and shoulder meet, one hand in Derek's hair and the other running up and down his chest. If Dex keeps this up, Derek is going to be hard again.

For the moment, that's not what he wants, so he pushes Dex back and rolls him over so that he's on his back. He wriggles his way on top of Dex, capturing his lips in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, feeling his come smear on Dex's stomach and making their bodies easily slide against each other.

He can feel Dex's hard-on pressing up into his belly, and so Derek quickly nips at Dex's earlobe before scooting down. He pulls Dex's compression shorts off to reveal Dex's cock, head nestled in a bed of ginger curls, glistening with pre-come. Derek's been with other guys before, and he feels like showing off, so rather than returning the favor with a handjob, he leans down and slowly licks up Dex's length. Dex's startled gasp tells Derek that among the things Dex's was expecting to happen, a blowjob was not one of them.

He pauses for a second to grin up at him, and then wraps his lips around the tip.

"Nurse, _fuck_ ," Dex hisses, a hand finding its way into Derek's hair. He sucks and then pops off of Dex's dick, only to immediately take him back in, going down as far as he can without gagging. Dex tugs at his hair and _God_ is that hot. Derek slowly starts to bob his head, and Dex gasps for air, clearly overwhelmed by the sensation.

Derek doesn't bother taking his time, establishing a rapid, steady rhythm. Dex is acting like this is his first blowjob and if that's the case, it won't take him very long to come. Sure enough, it's barely been two minutes, and Derek can feel Dex tense up under him. He's red-faced, panting loudly, and he can't seem to get any words out.

Derek slides his mouth off and uses his hand to get Dex the rest of the way there, reveling in the way Dex shouts and his whole body spasms as he shoots all over his chest and abs. Derek waits until he relaxes and releases him, slithering up to lay next to him.

"That's _so_ much better with a guy," Dex finally says after a long silence where all that can be heard is their own, panting breaths.

"Yeah," Derek agrees, and maybe that's not completely true, because it's good with everyone for him, but that was the best he's ever had by a mile. "I've wanted to do that since we were freshmen," he adds hesitantly. He probably shouldn't, because they just hooked up, and it doesn't have to actually mean anything besides them both being horny and wanting to get off. But he also needs to talk about this with Dex before he tries to run off and act like nothing happened.

He turns his head on the pillow to glance over at Dex. Dex is smiling and it's making Derek's heart stutter in his chest.

"I've kinda wanted to since we met on the tadpole tour," Dex replies sheepishly, his body flushing bright red.

"That's a long time for the two of us to be pining over each other," Derek chuckles, because that means since he's been pining after Dex for more than two years, Dex has been pining after him for longer.

"Well you're really hot," Dex sighs. "I just couldn't get you out of my mind."

"Ditto," Derek responds.

Dex shoves him. "Shut the fuck up."

"It wasn't a joke."

"Oh my God, you can't be serious. I'm _not_ hot," Dex scoffs.

"Yeah, you really are," Derek says, leaning over and kissing Dex softly and sweetly. That seems to stun Dex into silence, because the minutes stretch on without him saying anything else.

"What do you want this to mean?" he eventually says, so quietly that Derek almost didn't hear him.

"It can mean anything you want it to mean, Dexy. I'm up for whatever," Derek answers, trying to be chill about it. He doesn't want to scare Dex by saying that "I want you to be my boyfriend because that was the best sex I've had in my life oh and also I really like you." For most people, that's just a huge leap to make from having sex.

"Will you go out with me?" Dex blurts out.

Derek knows his smile is ridiculously big when he replies. "Yeah. But don't you think we're doing this a little out of order?"

"And whose fault is that?" Dex asks, rolling his eyes as he stands up and offers his hand to Derek.

"Um, yours. You were the one working out wearing only compression shorts and a snapback," Derek argues, grabbing one of their discarded shirts and wiping himself off and tossing it to Dex.

"Wrong! You weren't even supposed to be here!" Dex retorts, catching it and then tossing Derek a clean shirt from their closet.

"I had a rough day, okay, or at least I was," Derek replies, shaking his head as he pulls it on. "I just gave up on the day early and I was going to take a nap before I saw you."

They pull on their pants and come down the stairs, still light-heartedly bickering. Derek freezes when he sees Bitty in the kitchen. He can see the tips of his ears are burning scarlet and _shit_ , they kinda weren't very quiet. Derek clears his throat and Bitty jumps.

"Goodness!" he exclaims.

"Is everything alright Bits?" Derek questions cautiously. They probably should've just left, because Dex is going to be utterly mortified by whatever Bitty says, but it's too late to change his mind.

"Well um, I just—" Bitty stammers uncertainly. "Do—do y'all think you could keep it down? Ya know, if you decide to do— _that_ again?"

Dex starts to cough as he goes red-faced and Derek giggles, because, yeah, they were loud, but Dex was definitely louder. But Bitty heard them having sex and okay, maybe he should be a little embarrassed too.

"Sorry Bits, we will next time," Derek mumbles, feeling his own face flush. "And by we, I mean Dex," he adds a second later, with a smirk on his face.

"Shut up!" Dex hisses, his face a shade of red Derek has never seen before.

"I'm just chirping you," Derek says, looping an arm around Dex's shoulders. "Let's go out and get some dinner."

"Okay," Dex murmurs, briefly burying his head in the crook of Derek's neck.

"Y'all have fun!" Bitty says excitedly. "Oh, and I'm happy for y'all. It's 'bout time!"

At that, they both blush and quietly exit the Haus, Derek thinking that this really wasn't such a bad day after all.


	7. I'd Fight the World For You

**Summary:** _Dex has always known that Derek Nurse is frustrating, combative and pretentious. Nursey was—he bothered the fuck out of Dex, so Dex argued with him, poking at him whenever and however he could. He spent a lot of time ignoring how Nursey could also be thoughtful, witty and above all, disarming. Somehow, while Dex was preoccupied with arguing, Nursey had used those characteristics to easily slip past Dex's defenses._

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _For AO3 user alyssakate._

 _So this was the other fic I'd mentioned working on in the A/N of_ Treacherous _...it took me a month to get over the block I'd run into about halfway through. But I worked furiously the last two days and I finally got it done this afternoon :)_

 _Originally posted on AO3 and Tumblr on February 20, 2016_

* * *

Yale was known for playing tough, physical, hard-fought games. Games that were full of hard hits and many, many borderline checks. Jack and Bitty'd had at least two extra checking practices (something that was by now an open secret among the team) that Dex knew of. Additionally, Yale was only a game and a half behind Samwell for first place in the ECAC, so there was a lot on the line at this game.

In spite of everything they'd anticipated, the game had ended up routine, as much as a hockey game can be, for two and a half periods. They're up 2-0, thirteen minutes left, and Chowder is on absolute lockdown in between the posts. Nothing is getting through for Yale, and the frustration is beginning to clearly show. The hits get harder and more questionable, and the officials are struggling to keep up. For every illegal and overly rough check they were catching, they were missing at least two.

He and Nursey are faster than most of Yale's defensemen, and they're mostly unscathed, but busy returning as many of Yale's illegal checks with legal ones of their own. Dex is mostly keeping his temper under control, channeling as much of his anger into his retaliation hits, but he's still close to boiling over.

Still up 2-0 with just under four minutes to go, their luck runs out. Yale's third line comes onto the ice, and they have a literal goon on that line that is somehow also very fast. It's clear from the get-go that he has his sights set on Nursey and Dex—he's on the other side of the ice. Dex spots the way the guy's weight shifts, sees Nursey chasing after the puck, and takes off after the goon as fast as his skates will carry him.

"Nursey!" Dex shouts, because he's not sure that he can get there in time to cut the other guy off. Nursey's head snaps up, but the defenseman is in Nursey's blind spot. By the time Nursey gets his head around to see where the guy is, he's being slammed into the boards with a loud crash. He crumples, going flying up into the air and lands on the ice with a harsh thud.

In an instant, Dex sees red. Maybe he wasn't in position to protect his partner from the hit, but he's sure as hell in a position to avenge it. Fighting is banned in college and he'll be ejected, maybe even suspended from future games. But nobody goes after his partner like that. _Nobody_.

His gloves come off, skittering across the ice as he tackles the defenseman. His fists are flying, landing as many punches on him as he can before he's pulled away. It's clear he did it on purpose and he's going to pay for it the way Nursey did.

He gets a few good hits in before Ransom and Holster are grabbing his arms, pulling him up and dragging him away.

"That's what you get for messing with _my_ partner!" Dex screams, not only as a warning to the defenseman, but to anyone else in the ECAC who thinks about messing with Nursey. He's grinning smugly, because he can clearly see the bruise beginning to blossom under the other guy's eye and the blood dripping from his clearly broken nose.

The defender reaches up and wipes off his upper lip, eyes narrowing when he sees the blood trickling down the back of his hand. His teammates rush over to hold him back, and out of the corner of his eye, Dex can see the head referee signaling an ejection for both of them. He nods at the referee, sneers and flips the defender off, and then disappears down the tunnel, into the locker room, without protest.

He plops down on the bench, peeling off layer after layer of gear, wincing as he examined his bruises, results of hits he'd absorbed over the course of the game. Only once he's down to the clothes he was wearing underneath his pads does it start to dawn on him, the realization making his chest feel tight.

 _What the fuck did he just do?_

Nursey had taken a blindside check, and seeing him sprawled out on the ice had trigged Dex, drawing out a severe emotional reaction that lead to him flailing his fists without thinking. He hadn't been that angry in a long time—up until then, Dex wasn't sure he could even get that furious anymore. Obviously he still can, and he reacts just the same as he used to; he didn't stop to think, he didn't stop to check if Nursey was really that badly hurt, he just...started throwing punches.

Dex rubs at his face harshly, wincing when his cheek stings at the contact. He'd been so caught up in the fight, lost in the blur of bright red fury and flying fists he hadn't taken care to try and avoid anything the other guy threw at him. The whole fight lasted less than a minute, and yet he doesn't remember any of it, whole ordeal swallowed up and erased by a raging sea of anger.

Dex's own motives for reacting so strongly aren't even known to him. He fought to defend Nursey, but he didn't have to _fight_ to defend him. If it had been Jack, Bitty, Chowder, or anyone else, retaliation would've come in the form of a hard, legal check and a few choice words as he skated past. They're all as much his friends as Nursey is, but this—it was intensely personal to Dex. It was about messing with _his_ partner, which— _shit_.

His last fight on the ice took place back during his sophomore year of high school, when one of his younger brothers, Pat, briefly decided to take up hockey for a season. They had been paired up as defensemen, and they were damn good at it too. But Pat was smaller than most other defensemen, and that put a target square on his back. Dex had gotten into three fights that year, all for the purpose of defending Pat from the guys who were targeting him.

It's also, coincidentally, why Pat had only played one season of hockey. They'd ended up fighting each other over Dex's behavior. Pat didn't want Dex risking his own playing future to protect him, and he didn't need Dex's help anyway, he could take care of himself. They'd spent three weeks glaring at each other before Dex realized that Pat was right.

It's a meaningful pattern to Dex. If he cares about Nursey enough to get into a fight for him, then he cares about him at least as much as he cares about Pat. Dex has never been good at keeping his cool when other people think they can target the ones he cares about. It's his emotional attachment to Nursey that drove his reaction. There are lots of different kinds of emotional attachments, but the most obvious one for Dex is—well, could be really, really bad, _fuck_.

Derek limps by with the trainer, catching Dex's eye and pulling him out of his panicked thoughts. He jumps up and follows them into the trainer's office.

"You really need to fucking chill," Derek says sharply as he's helped onto the trainer's table. He's grimacing and breathing heavily, and once he's sitting, his legs hang stock still off the edge. "That was fucking stupid," he continues. "You're gonna get suspended by the conference, and I'm not even—"

Nursey sucks in a harsh breath, features screwing up in a clear indication of pain when the trainer's hand barely grazes his ankle.

"You were saying?" Dex replies, raising an eyebrow challengingly at Nursey.

"Shut the fuck up," Nursey gasps, clenching his eyes shut as she continues to probe at his ankle.

"The guy fucking blind-sided you. To the hell with how I was supposed to handle it! The officials were letting them get away with all kinds of dirty shit, and I wasn't taking a chance of that happening with that hit," Dex explains, leaning up against the table next to Nursey.

"He was ejected too," Nursey answers. "Saw it as I was being helped up."

"I know, I saw it too. Served the bastard right," Dex grins.

"Well Mr. Nurse," the trainer begins while there's a pause in their conversation. "It's hard to say anything definitive without x-rays, but it looks like a textbook high ankle sprain. Most likely scenario, you're out for a week or two. There's still a chance that it could be worse, so I'm going have you go to the hospital tonight to get x-rays to check for a fracture and an MRI to check for tendon and ligament damage. If it's any worse, you'll probably be out until next season."

 _"Son of a bitch,"_ Nursey mutters, forcefully punching the tabletop. "Okay I take it back, you were probably justified in not being chill."

"You're welcome," Dex smirks, gently knocking into Nursey's shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks. But now the team's down _two_ d-men for at least a week instead of just one, so you're still a moron."

"Noted," Dex says, laughing softly.

"You think Jack's going to go ballistic about your ejection?" Nursey asks casually.

"I—I don't know," Dex shrugs. "I think he was pretty pissed off at the officials for the way the game was being called, and I did it to have your back so—maybe he won't be."

"I wouldn't count on that," Nursey chuckles, punching Dex lightly in the shoulder.

"Yeaaaahhhh, I'm really not either," Dex groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and recoiling slightly when the action sends a jolt of pain through his head.

"Derek Nurse?" a man says, appearing suddenly in the doorway.

"Yeah, that's me," Nursey replies.

"The ambulance is here for you," he says, walking over to the table to help Nursey up.

"Ambulance?" Dex asks, because he's not hurt that badly, why the fuck does he need an ambulance?

"Yeah, I have to get x-rays, remember dumbass?" Nursey retorts. "The ambulance is just my ride."

"Oh, cool bro. I guess...let me know when you're going to be back," Dex shrugs, aiming a nonchalant tone and hitting awkwardly stiff instead. Nursey is helped up, and he tells the guy to stop. He turns around and eyes Dex suspiciously.

"Yeah, alright," Nursey acknowledges tiredly after a moment, signaling to the man to help him out.

"And—and don't be out for more than a week, you fucker!" Dex adds quickly before Nursey is out the door. "I'm going to kill you if you leave me to play with anyone else!"

"Okay man, I'll see what I can do," Nursey chortles, sounding somewhat fond. Dex walks out of the trainer's office, listening as the sound echoes through the empty hallway. It makes the tightness in his chest begin to melt away, leaving a warm fuzzy feeling in its place. Nursey turns a corner, going out of sight, and so Dex shuffles back into the locker room, slumping down in his cubby.

In Dex's mind, that exchange seals the deal. It's not hard for Dex to put the pieces together, because a) he only fights for people he cares about and he fought for Nursey, and b) the warmth he felt in his chest from Nursey's fond chuckling is not a very bro-like feeling.

Dex has always known that Derek Nurse is frustrating, combative and pretentious. Nursey was—he bothered the fuck out of Dex, so Dex argued with him, poking at him whenever and however he could. He spent a lot of time ignoring how Nursey could also be thoughtful, witty and above all, disarming. Somehow, while Dex was preoccupied with arguing, Nursey had used those characteristics to easily slip past Dex's defenses.

His defenses are there for a very good reason. Dex works hard to keep them up, to keep boys at arm's length away; to protect himself, to keep from crushing on anyone would might be meaningful to him. He'd tried with Nursey. He'd tried harder than maybe he had with anyone else before, but Nursey pushed. He'd pushed, but he'd done it slowly, subtly, so that Dex didn't even notice he was doing it. And now, as he was just realizing what Nursey had been doing, it was too late for Dex to do anything about it.

Because William Poindexter already has a big, fat crush on Derek Nurse.

"I am _so_ fucked," he mutters. He has a crush on his on-ice partner, the boy he has to put up with and play with for another three and a half years. Three and a half years that he won't be able to escape Nursey, something that will only serve to make his crush worse.

Metallic clinking of skates comes rattling down the hallway, filtering into the locker room and alerting Dex that the game is over. He sits up, sighing and running a hand through his hair as he prepares himself for the verbal lashing he expects to receive.

Ransom and Holster are in the locker room first, and they immediately make a beeline for him.

"You did good bro," Ransom says, patting his shoulder gently.

"Yeah, way to stick up for your fellow d-man," Holster continues, adding a smack to his other shoulder.

"Thanks," Dex murmurs, his face flushing because that's just what his face does 90% of the time.

"How is he?" Bitty asks concernedly, immediately coming up behind Ransom and Holster.

"Trainer says it's probably just a high ankle sprain, but I don't know for sure, it could've gotten really fucked up. He _was_ in a lot of pain," Dex answers. "But they were taking him to the hospital to check it out for sure."

"Fuck man," Shitty shakes his head, appearing over Bitty's shoulder. "A blind-side hit! I mean, brah, that's really fucking shitty! I hope that motherfucker gets suspended."

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the locker at the same time Dex notices Jack making his way towards them. He gulps and white-knuckles the bench, steeling himself.

Jack, seeing his determined expression, shrugs. "It was a messy game, eh? I'm not going to blame you for making sure someone had your partner's back, since it seemed like we couldn't really count on the officials for that. Just—next time, kept it a little more—legal, eh?"

"Alright Jack, I will," Dex replies, though he's not sure whether he can guarantee that or not. He's always been terrible at keeping a lid on his emotions. Jack nods and walks back to his locker.

"So who's ready for a motherfuckin' victory kegster?" Shitty shouts, and the majority of the team cheers in reply.

Dex immediately shakes his head. "I think I'll just go back to my room and wait for Nursey."

"Keep us posted about him, y'hear?" Bitty says, cutting off the beginning of Shitty's protest.

"Yeah, of course I will Bitty," Dex answers quietly. Since he's already out of his pads, Dex decides to go. He waves at the guys before shoving his hands in his pockets, slowly shuffling out of Faber.

* * *

He's made it about halfway to their dorm building when his phone rings. Dex quickly answers it.

"Yeah?"

"Dexy, hey!" Nursey replies, his words slurring together slightly.

"Nursey, what's up, what's the verdict?" Dex asks, already beginning to feel a blush creeping up his neck at the nickname.

"'S just a sprain, bro," Nursey says, and Dex exhales in relief.

"Thank God," he sighs. "Have they released you yet?"

"Yep," Derek says, popping the 'p' and then giggling. "Got a boot, crutches and drugs, so I'm all set."

They had given him painkillers, right, that explains why Nursey sounds like he's drunk off his ass.

"I'll be waiting outside the dorms for you," Dex says, biting his lip nervously. As much as he thinks it's a bad idea for him to look after Nursey for the night, given Nursey's current state, someone _has_ to do it. And with everyone else at the Haus for the kegster, that leaves Dex as the only candidate.

"I'm getting in the Uber now. See ya when I get there, Dexy—buddy," Nursey responds, and then hangs up.

Dex shakes his head, trying to fight off the warm feeling rising in his chest again. Nursey was just off because of the painkillers, because Nursey never calls him Dexy or buddy. They're not in nickname territory, they're not buddies; they're just _barely_ friends.

Dex had worked really hard to keep it that way but—it seems pretty pointless now. The whole point was to keep from crushing on Nursey, and it'd happened anyway. _Maybe it's time to stop working so hard to keep my walls up_ , Dex thinks.

He exhales softly, texting the team as he walks the rest of the way to their dorm. When he's there, he sits down on the steps outside the entrance, waiting until a car pulls up. When the door opens and he sees Nursey, Dex quickly scurries over to help him out. Nursey is ridiculously clumsy when he's on his own two feet; adding crutches and a giant boot is only going to serve to make it worse.

"Dexy!" Nursey shouts, smiling broadly, its sheer brilliance punching the air of Dex's lungs.

"L-let's get inside. It's cold out," Dex responds. It's quite warm for a normal Massachusetts evening in late October, but he needs Nursey to get into bed and fall asleep soon, so he has a chance to figure out how the hell he's going to deal with his dumb crush.

Nursey shrugs in response, his shoulders taking his crutches with them. He's leaning on them heavily for balance, with his other foot held gingerly above the ground, so it's no surprise he topples over, falling into Dex. Dex wraps his arms around Nursey, securely holding him up.

"Nursey you clumsy fucker, you and crutches are going to be a disaster," Dex mumbles, keeping Nursey upright while he fumbles to get his crutches back underneath him, supporting his weight. In the meantime, Dex is not thinking about how Nursey's face is practically pressing into the crook of his neck, how warm and solid the line of his shoulders feels against his chest, or how his puffs of breath are making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Tha's what I have you for, right?" Nursey says, grinning and pulling away so he's standing on his own again.

"Oh sure, lucky me," Dex huffs, but he's grinning right back and his cheeks are beginning to flush; there's no real heat to his sarcastic response. "Now really, c'mon, let's get inside," he urges.

Nursey nods this time, and Dex slowly leads him inside, up to his room. He helps Nursey get dressed for bed, resolutely keeping his eyes from wandering as Nursey takes his pants off and changes his shirt. His eyes are drooping half-shut when he asks:

"Wait, isn't—isn't there a kegster?"

"Uh-huh," Dex hums, somewhat condescendingly, because there's a kegster after every game. Even high on pain pills, Nursey should be able to remember that.

"Then—," Nursey pauses and scrunches up his face in indication of deep, concentrated thought. Half of Dex is telling him that it looks adorable, the other half is telling the first half to shut up because 'he's your hockey partner, you can't act on your crush dammit!' "—why are you here?" Nursey finally finishes his sentence after a long moment.

"I uh, d-drew the short straw," Dex stutters as he lies, though he's not sure why admitting that he volunteered to look after him would be some kind of indication to Nursey about his crush.

"Team's never drawn straws on anything before," Nursey yawns as he stretches out towards his pillow.

"Well, we did this time," Dex maintains, because Nursey is probably already half-asleep and won't argue with him. "Now go to sleep."

"Okay fine, _mom_ ," Derek sighs sleepily. Dex swats at him and Nursey giggles before yawning again, his eyes fluttering shut. "Thanks Dexy...you know, for everything you did tonight," he says, and then he's asleep, snoring lightly.

"You're welcome," Dex replies with a fond, lopsided grin. He watches Nursey sleep for a while. At some point, he reaches over and brushes one of Nursey's dark curls off his forehead—oh _Jesus_ , he's so screwed.

Belatedly, he realizes that Nursey's room doesn't really have any place for him to lie down and sleep. He's not leaving Nursey here alone, so he sighs, feeling his way around in the darkness for Nursey's dresser. He finds it—by stubbing his toe on the corner.

"Fuck!" he hisses, and Nursey bolts up.

"Wha—what are you doing?" Nursey asks blearily.

"Just—grabbing a sweatshirt to use as a pillow," he explains. The floor will be okay, as long as he has something to rest his head on.

Nursey shoots him a withering glare. "Don't you dare sleep on the floor."

"Really Nursey, it's fine," Dex responds.

"C'mon, bed," Nursey commands.

Dex shakes his head; nope, no way in _hell_ he's getting in the same bed as the guy he's just today realized he has a huge crush on.

"Dexy, please," Nursey whines, and _shit_ , it's like he never had any resolve to resist from the very start.

"Fine, you persistent asshole," Dex grumbles, because how _dare_ Nursey use Dex's crush that he doesn't even know Dex has against him.

Nursey scoots over, pressing up against the wall to make space. Dex strips off his pants first, and then gingerly climbs onto the bed and slips under the covers. No sooner has he done so than Nursey drapes all over him, and he freezes. The sensation feels like it's not unlike how Holster describes Ransom's octopus tendencies.

"What—" Dex starts to say.

"Shhh. Small bed," Nursey mumbles into his shoulder.

Dex clamps his jaw shut. It's true, dorm beds are tiny, and they're both large in stature, meaning there isn't enough space for them to sleep side by side. Anyway, Nursey is like, the perfect substitute/replacement for the giant mountain of blanket Dex normally sleeps under. Dex exhales, relaxing into the bed and Nursey as he breathes out his tension. He falls asleep in a matter of minutes.

* * *

Dex stirs from sleep slowly, and his first thought is about the way Nursey is still wrapped around him. His face is pressed firmly into Dex's shoulder blade, his arms are looped around Dex's stomach, and his leg that isn't wearing a boot is tangled up with Dex's. _Oh God_ , he's an absolute idiot. He should've never agreed to climb into bed with Nursey. Maybe some people could separate their feelings from actions like this (*ahem* Ransom and Holster—seriously, Dex knows he's picking up some very not bro-ly emotions from both of them), but Dex knows he'll never be able to.

Last night, Nursey was high and injured. He invited Dex to share the bed because he didn't want Dex to sleep on the floor, and too high to remember that sharing a bed wasn't a thing they did.

"Stop thinking so loud," Nursey murmurs, tightening his arms around Dex's stomach like it's no big deal.

"Sorry," Dex replies, his face flushing brightly because of the action. "H-how's your ankle?" he adds after a minute, willing himself to be casual and—well, _chill_ about this.

"Hurts," Nursey grunts.

"Want something for it? Doctor gave you some painkillers," Dex points out.

"No," Nursey answers, and Dex feels the way his face scrunches up against his shoulder. "Don't want prescription stuff. Might do something stupid."

Dex takes a minute to consider what Nursey might consider "something stupid". It's a question that's shortly answered, because Nursey groans and rolls off of Dex. "Like I'm doing right now," he sighs. "Sorry Dex."

"It's—there's—don't apologize," Dex splutters, startled by the sudden loss of contact and heat. "It's fine."

"Oh."

Uncomfortable silence settles over them. Dex doesn't know what's going on or what to say, so he waits for Nursey to say something. But Nursey doesn't say anything for a long time, and Dex thinks that they're probably in a stand-off, waiting for the other to talk first. Rather than say something and be wrong or make it worse, Dex decides he might as well just leave. He'll send Bitty or Chowder over in his place. He just can't stand the tension that he feels and the unease that's now coming in between them.

He sits up, but Nursey gently puts a hand on his shoulder. "Dex, I'm sorry I made it weird."

Dex snorts and shakes his head, because if anyone's made it weird, it's him, not Nursey. "You didn't make it weird, I probably did."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Nursey protests as Dex starts to stand up.

"Yeah I did, the moment I started crushing on you," Dex replies, and he realizes a fraction of a second too late that the words have slipped out .

"What?" Nursey croaks, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stares up at Dex.

"Can—can we pretend I didn't just say that?" Dex sighs. This will probably be ugly, and he just really doesn't want to deal with this right now.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Isn't that what I said?" Dex snaps, because of course Nursey has to push. Nursey always pushes him, no matter the situation. "And I get that it's creepy or whatever, but I promise I won't do anything weird. You don't have to worry about it, I'll get over it eventually."

Nursey looks positively shell-shocked at the admission. _Jesus Christ_ , when is Dex going to learn to just keep his mouth _shut_?

"I'm sorry. I'm just going to go," Dex says quietly. He's about to walk away when Nursey grabs his hand and reels him back towards the bed.

"Did you mean what you said?" Nursey inquires, looking up at Dex starry-eyed and— _hopeful_?

"Yeah of course I do," Dex answers, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "You should know me well enough by now to know I wouldn't make that kind of thing up."

"But I thought you were—"

"I never once said I was," Dex shrugs, feeling a grin forming on his face. He knows where Nursey's going with this. "I've never like actually come out, but I've never said that I was straight and if Shitty were here, he'd totally lecture you about heteronormativity for assuming so."

Nursey barks out a startled laugh, smiling like a little boy on Christmas. It's cute, and Dex feels the hearts in his eyes. "I didn't think you actually paid attention to Shitty's lectures," Nursey says.

"What is it with all these assumption you've made about me?"

"It's just the vibe you give off bro," Nursey explains with a shrug.

"Well, maybe this should serve as a lesson to stop judging people by their 'vibe'," Dex retorts argumentatively. They're arguing, because that's what they do, but it's light and playful now, and it's a nice change from the usual.

"I guess you're right Poindexter," Nursey smirks.

Dex laughs. "Oh my God, say that again! No, no, wait until I have my phone out! I have to record this! Derek Nurse admitting that I, William Poindexter was r— _mmph_!"

He's interrupted by Nursey grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down, and kissing him quiet. It's not a long kiss, only a few seconds, but by the time Nursey pulls away, Dex's face is already red as a tomato.

"What I said—it never leaves this room," Nursey says, mock threateningly, still holding onto Dex's shirt.

"I m-make no p-promises," Dex stutters, off-balance because _wow_ , Nursey just kissed him. Nursey surges up and kisses him again and okay, it's not normal for the room to feel like it's spinning, but Dex likes it.

"What about now?" Nursey questions, licking his lips as he looks Dex in the eye.

Dex swallows thickly. "I—I could m-maybe use a little more—persuading," Dex replies. His face goes hot over the fact that he just made that implication, but Nursey has a filthy smirk on his face.

"I think I can manage that," he says as he yanks Dex down onto the bed.

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _I know they probably wouldn't give him prescription painkillers for a high ankle sprain but shhhh, I needed that detail for this to work :)_

 _Also I plead for forgiveness for giving Dex's brother such a stereotypical Irish name :P_


	8. Tools and Beards

**Summary:** _In which Nursey has a thing for Dex's handyman skills and Dex has a thing for Nursey's beard._

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _I have no excuse for this, except maybe I was emotionally compromised because of the new update and then when cakemakethmycroft and I freaked out over Nursey's beard, this idea was born and I just couldn't go without writing it._

 _Originally posted on AO3 and Tumblr on February 24, 2016_

 ** _Smut warning!_**

* * *

Dex is still on the floor of the Haus kitchen. He's a sweaty, greasy mess, crawling on his hands and knees around Betsy. He really knows that there's nothing more he can do, but Bitty just seemed so sad when he said as much. So he's trying every last trick he can think of. Nursey has decided to stick around in the kitchen, even though everyone else has already left, but that's not a problem, at least not until Nursey decides to start talking.

"This is kinda like one of those terrible porn vids, hmm?" Nursey says out of the blue. "Anyway, you want something to drink?"

Dex is so startled by the off-handed comment that he drops his screwdriver and bashes his head on the roof of the oven (which he had just climbed into).

"What the _fuck_?" he asks, gently rubbing the back of his skull.

"I asked if you wanted something to drink," Nursey shrugs, leaning up against the fridge door. He's acting casual, but there's a hint of mischief gleaming in his eye.

" _Fuck_ , no, I got that but—why the fuck are you talking about porn?" Dex asks, his face flushing darkly.

"You know, if the shoe fits," Nursey remarks nonchalantly, twisting around to pull the refrigerator open. "So that's a no on the drink?"

"Water," Dex croaks, because his throat is suddenly very dry.

"Okay," Nursey smirks, quickly tossing him a bottle from the fridge, and it's a minor miracle that Dex catches the bottle. _Shit_ , why is Nursey smirking at him?

"Why are you smirking at me?" Dex huffs, twisting his head around to catch Nursey's eye as he's walks back over to the table. He swallows, because _fuck_ , the way his smirk looks with his beard. He looks so...so...God, the only word he could use here was _hot_.

"I'm just surprised you don't have a specific objection to the porn scenario," Nursey says, waggling his eyebrows and _what the fuck is he trying to imply?_

"Okay f-fine, you want an objection?" Dex stutters because _dear God_ , he's actually going to talk about this with Nursey.

"Chyeah," Nursey snorts in amusement.

"Alright then," Dex sighs. He's _actually_ going to do this. "It's unrealistic. You wouldn't want to be anywhere near someone who just finished working. You're sweaty, greasy and nasty and it's really not attractive."

"Hmm, I disagree," Nursey says with a wink. Which. _What?_

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Nursey grins, sitting down at the table.

At least he's quiet for a while after that, which Dex is thankful for, except now he's just staring.

"Stop staring at me!" Dex hisses, because the feeling of Nursey watching him is making him anxious.

Nursey shrugs. " _Chill_ Poindexter, I'm just curious what you're doing." Nursey then quickly snaps his mouth shut, like he hadn't meant to say that. "You're still working and I just thought you said there was nothing more you could do."

Dex sits up, resting on his haunches as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. "I know, I know," Dex sighs. "I just thought—Bitty was so upset—and I hoped that maybe I could find something. But..."

"She's gone," Nursey finishes, standing up and walking over, leaning up against the oven.

Dex nods in agreement.

"So what's wrong with it anyway?" Nursey asks. Dex squints up at him; he's not sure if Nursey actually cares, or if he's just looking for something to make fun of him for. Actually, it doesn't matter, he's liable to be made fun of either way.

"Well, most of the wiring is more electrical tape than wire," he explains, and Nursey, for his part, does seem to be genuinely interested, so he soldiers on, keeping it as simple as possible so Nursey will actually understand. "And anyway, the heating element and thermostat are both completely shot. And this oven is so old you couldn't find replacements even if you scoured the deepest, darkest corners of the internet."

"Wow, that really sucks, especially for Bitty," Nursey replies, looking faintly awed (or overwhelmed) by what Dex said. "Where did you learn all this anyway?"

"Back in Maine, I worked in my uncle's shop during the school year," Dex shrugs. "He taught me everything I know. Hey, can you hand me the socket wrench from my toolbox?" he asks, because since it's clear nothing else can be done, he might as well just put her back together so they can haul her off.

"Uh, sure," Nursey hesitates before stepping over to the counter where his toolbox is. He looks down at it, and Dex has to try not laugh, because he just looks so _lost_. "I don't know which one that is," he murmurs after a long moment.

"It's the one with a silver cylinder attached to the end," Dex clarifies, because that should be clear enou—

"This one?" Nursey questions, holding up his Phillips head screwdriver that happens to have a silver-colored handle.

Dex shakes his head and stands up, walking over to help him because poor Nursey, he's probably never seen a tool more complex than a hammer in his life. "It's this one," he says, pulling out the socket wrench and holding it out for Nursey to see.

"Oh," Nursey responds, scratching at his beard. This is a perfect opportunity to get back at Nursey for making fun of him for all the things he didn't know at one time or another, but Dex doesn't do that, because Nursey just looks too— _adorably_ —confused. Not to mention that Nursey stroking his beard made Dex's knees feel weak. Instead he gently asks "Do you know what _any_ of these tools are?"

"Of course I do!" Nursey snaps indignantly. "I know what a hammer looks like!"

"Okay. Anything else?" Dex inquires, probably a little too smugly.

"I— _fine_ , no I don't know any of the others, but why do I need to when I have you around?" Nursey grins.

There's no real implication behind that statement, but _fuck_ , Dex's heart is doing strange things in his chest.

"I—you won't have me around forever," Dex forces out around the lump in his throat. He doesn't miss the way Nursey's face falls. "But I can teach you a few basic things if you want," he continues on, walking back over to the oven. He squats down as Nursey opens his mouth to speak.

"I— _fuck, no_ ," Nursey squeaks, as Dex is in the middle of picking up assorted bolts off the floor.

Dex hums questioningly. That was a strangely sharp reply.

"Do you realize—God, do you know how hot you look when you're working?" Nursey remarks breathlessly, and the socket wrench falls from Dex's hand, clattering on the floor.

 _"What?"_ Dex chokes out, his face flushing red because why the _fuck_ would Nursey say that?

"I—I don't want to learn because I want to watch _you_ fix stuff," Nursey responds.

"I—why— _what the fuck_?" Dex gasps, quickly standing up again. There's nothing attractive about being sweaty and covered in grease and whatever else happens to catch on his clothes (seriously, he's had all kinds of stains on his shirts that he had no idea what caused them).

But then Nursey steps forward and says darkly "You're really thick, you know that? How can you miss a hint as overt as one about porn?"

"H-hint?" Dex stutters. They're only inches apart, and Nursey's deep green eyes are gazing into his and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

"Yep," Nursey smirks. "I've just been waiting for you to make a move. It's hard to miss the way you keep staring at my face—my beard," he adds, his hands settling on Dex's hips. Dex's breath hitches as his eyes dart down to Nursey's lips, sticking out as thick and red amidst the darkness of his facial hair.

"It—it looks g-good on you," Dex stammers defensively, because regardless of his "thing" for Nursey, he would've been able to see that it fit his face anyway.

Nursey chuckles, and Dex's head snaps back up to meet his eyes. "Thanks Poindexter. I bet you'd look good with one too, if you could grow any facial hair."

"Oh fuck you," Dex laughs, pushing Nursey backwards playfully.

Nursey tightens his grip and reels Dex back into him. "I'm serious though, it _would_ look good on you."

His voice is very soft and Dex looks into Nursey's eyes. The way Nursey's looking at him is— _wow_ , it punches the breath right out of his lungs. So he surges forward and kisses Nursey, like he's been trying to pretend he _hasn't_ been thinking about doing for months.

Nursey kisses back enthusiastically, and Dex finds that kissing someone with a beard isn't quite what he expected. It's not all that rough or scratchy, like it looks it would feel. It's actually kind of soft as it brushes against his face, while Nursey's lips move smoothly across his own. And it's—fuck, it's an even bigger turn-on when it's rubbing on his skin. He's already half-hard, and he would be embarrassed, except Nursey ruts up into him, grinning into the kiss.

Dex groans, and then Nursey's tongue is in his mouth, stifling the sound. Nursey's hands slowly slide down from his hips, settling over his ass and squeezing gently, making Dex moan into his mouth, his own hands sliding up under Nursey's shirt.

The rumbling of a truck down the street breaks through the haze though, and Dex suddenly remembers they're standing in the middle of the Haus kitchen. Nursey appears to realize this at the same time, and he pushes back.

"Probably shouldn't do this here," he pants.

"Yeah," Dex agrees. There's nothing specifically in Bitty's rules about fucking in the kitchen, but that's probably because it's already obvious. It's not like there's anywhere close by the can move to though, because they're both completely hard, and don't have any patience left.

"Bathroom?" Nursey inquires, quirking his head towards the stairs. And well, they're just as likely to get killed for having sex in Bitty's (and Ransom and Holster's) bathroom, but at least it provides a little more privacy than the kitchen.

They stumble over each other as they scramble up the stairs, squeezing themselves in the small room. Dex puts his hands on Nursey's cheeks and pulls him in, kissing him as he runs his thumbs through Nursey's beard because wow, it's just _so much softer_ than he anticipated it being.

"You really like the beard, huh?" Nursey smirks.

"You have no idea," Dex gasps. He was gone on Nursey's beard the second it became more than just a little fuzz on his face.

"That's exactly why I kept it," Nursey says, and then he's spinning Dex around, pushing him up against the sink. Nursey pulls down his pants in a flash and spreads his legs slightly, kissing at biting at the skin on the inside of his thigh. Nursey's thick, curly hair is brushing up against his cock, hard in his underwear, adding on top of the feeling of Nursey's face, buried in his thigh, rubbing all over the skin there.

He's so close to his dick, but not doing anything, and Dex groans in frustration. Nursey stands up and seals their mouths together, their clothed erections sliding against each other. When Nursey pulls away, he grins and says " _Chill_ Poindexter." And _God_ , if Dex wasn't so aroused that it was hard to think clearly, he'd call Nursey an ass. He does shoot Nursey the most murderous glare he can manage though.

"You have to be quiet, unless you want the entire Haus to know what we're doing," Nursey says and then he's on his knees again. Dex bites down on his lip so hard that he draws blood to keep from crying out when Nursey starts to palm him while burrowing his face into Dex's other thigh. He's embarrassingly close to coming already. He reaches down and grabs Nursey's wrist, and Nursey totally draws away quickly.

"I'm sorry—" he starts to say and Dex cuts him off immediately.

"No sorry, you're fine!" he blurts out. Everyone on the team is hyper-aware about consent (Dex included) thanks to Shitty, and he just accidentally did something that Nursey misconstrued. "Just—was too close," he pants because _fuck no_ , he doesn't want Nursey to stop completely.

"Oh," Nursey exhales in relief, before pulling down Dex's underwear and proceeding to attack his hipbone. He takes way too long on that, leaving a nice, blooming purple mark there. Thankfully it's not a very visible pl—

 _FUCK!_

His thoughts are interrupted by that singular thought, the only one that manages to cross his mind for the next thirty seconds, because Nursey's tongue is on his dick, warm and wet, and nothing could've prepared him for how that felt.

Dex grips the sink counter in order to stay upright, since his legs have turned into jello, and Nursey is looking up at him through his lashes, looking way too proud and smug and also very pretty and oh _HOLY SHIT_ his dick is in Nursey's mouth.

 _"Nursey,"_ Dex moans before he can stop the sound from escaping his lips, grabbing a handful of Nursey's hair and twisting his fingers in it. Nursey bobs his head, sucking gently and _damn_ , he's never felt anything quite like this before.

It's not long, maybe only a minute or two, before he feels his orgasm start to overtake him and well, he'd have liked to have lasted a little longer than this, but it's his first blowjob ever and there's literally nothing he can to do to hold back anymore. He tugs on Nursey's hair in warning, because his mouth isn't good for anything at the moment except for taking labored breaths.

Nursey either doesn't get the warning or doesn't care, but it's too late. Dex lets out a long moan, the corners of his vision going white as he comes into Nursey's mouth. Nursey continues to suck him through it, while his hips buck up into the other boy's mouth. When he comes down, Dex collapses against the sink, breathing heavily.

Nursey crowds into his space and kisses him, open-mouthed and messily. He's is faintly aware that there's a little bit of his come still in Nursey's mouth, and that he's tasting it. After a moment, Nursey pulls back and smirks. "First time, huh?"

"Obviously not _your_ first," Dex murmurs, momentarily resting his head on Nursey's shoulder.

"You'd be surprised," Nursey replies. "That was only my third time."

"I don't think I can do that though," Dex sighs, looking down in between them at the sizable bulge in Nursey's pants. He knows that Nursey's dick is pretty big (okay, so maybe he took an illegal glance in the locker room once) and that's too intimidating.

"S'okay," Nursey shrugs. "You don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

And Dex shakes his head because that's really sweet and thoughtful of Nursey to say, but he can handle jerking him off _thank you very much_. Wordlessly, he spins them around so it is Nursey pressed up into the sink, and he deftly undoes the button on Nursey's jeans, pulling them down along with his underwear all in one motion.

And as he stares at Nursey's cock, he's not sure that there's any way he could _ever_ fit that thing in his mouth, but he pushes the thought away; that's a concern for another time.

Nursey hisses as Dex curls his fingers around the length, gently stroking up and down. Nursey's eyes flutter shut as he leans back, taking short, controlled breaths. Dex focuses on his dick instead of his (very attractive) face, doing all the little things he knows he loves to do on himself. Nursey's mouth falls open as Dex pauses to run his thumb over the slit with each stroke.

Dex takes his time, relishing in how Nursey's breathing steadily becomes more erratic. They've probably been in here for too long though, so Dex picks up his pace. It's hardly been thirty seconds when Nursey gasps.

"I'm gonna—" he says, the rest of his sentence cut off by a strangled moan as he comes all over Dex's hand and (whoops) the bathroom floor. Dex spares a moment to look up at Nursey's blissed-out face and whoa, does he look hot like that. He gets lost in staring, and then Nursey is grabbing his wrist and staring back down at him.

Dex releases him and then grabs some toilet paper, cleaning up himself, the floor and Nursey while Nursey recovers. He quickly flushes the wad down the toilet, and Nursey drags him in, giving him a soft, languid kiss.

"You're really good at that," he says, resting his forehead onto Dex's.

"Yeah, well, lots of practice," Dex admits hesitantly.

"Dude, don't tell me you just lost your virginity in the Haus," Nursey chuckles.

Dex flushes scarlet. "Umm."

"Bro, Shits is going to have a field day."

"Derek, can we not tell anyone yet?" Dex asks panickedly because shit, that's a huge leap from _having_ sex with a guy to _telling_ everyone he had sex with a guy.

"Okay Dex," Nursey shrugs.

The Haus is still empty when they get back downstairs, and they both head back into the kitchen because Dex never did finish putting Betsy back together. He's walking a little funny because Nursey's beard irritated the inside of his thighs and now they're chafing.

Ransom, Holster, Bitty and Shitty all come back at the same time, just as Dex is finishing up.

"Well Bitty, it's official," Dex sighs, standing up and taking a few waddling steps. He thinks he covers pretty well, but he misses the strange looks from the other guys because he's preparing to be the bearer of bad news to Bitty. "She's done for."

He expects something like tears or upset babbling. What he gets is stunned silence as he looks back and forth between him and Nursey.

"Bro, that's some wicked beard burn you've got going on," Holster snickers, appearing over Bitty's shoulder. He blushes, turning bright red, which thankfully covers up the rash on his face.

"Oh man, Nursey reeks of sex too," Ransom adds from across the kitchen and _oh God_ , they're done for.

"Brah. _Brahhhhh_ ," Shitty grins, and then frowns. "You two didn't use anyone's bed, did you?"

"Uhh no," Dex answers timidly.

"Alright then brahs, you're good," Shitty says, smacking Dex on the back. "Oh, and congratulations. Those longing stares were starting to get old."

"Who wants some pie to celebrate?" Bitty inquires.

"The oven's broken," they all reply in unison and okay, _there_ are the tears.


	9. I'm Not as Chill as I Seem

**Summary:** _The next message Lardo sends him is Dex's address. Derek quickly copies it into Google Maps and slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and races down to the garage, picking out the least ostentatious car they have (which is, ugh, a_ Lexus _) and speeding off on the nearly seven and a half hour drive, before he can convince himself that this is a terrible idea._

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _This work is gifted to cakemakethmyrcroft, because without her, I would still be stuck somewhere towards the beginning of this fic. She let me walk through the plot I had in mind, and helped me fill in a lot of the details that I was struggling to come up with. 333_

 _Just an interesting note, this surpasses the longest thing I've written for a single posting (multichapter update or otherwise) by nearly 1000 words (the next closest being_ What Happens in Vegas... _). :) (Note: I have since way surpassed this, having written a 20k word fic)_

 _The title is an adaptation of the lyrics from_ Morningside _by Sara Bareilles._

 _Originally posted on AO3 and Tumblr on March 24, 2016_

* * *

Derek has never liked summer. Starting right from when he was a little boy, and ever since, even in this, his first summer in between years of college, summer has never been fun. At first, summer was being trapped in a big empty house away from his friends and being ignored by everyone except Ruth, their elderly housekeeper. And when he was at Andover, summer was simply a season, the months usually given to kids as time to be free from all responsibilities given over instead to hours spent baking in blisteringly hot classrooms. And now that he's at Samwell, its back to the way it was before, except now Ruth is long dead and gone, and the new housekeeper, Patty, scowls wordlessly at him every time he emerges from his room.

But missing his friends now is nothing like it was when he was little, because his friends now are more like family to him. Missing his friends now means having a constant, ever-present dull ache in his chest. He misses Chowder and his infectious energy, Bitty and his pies, Ransom and Holster and their crazy antics, Shitty and his flow and feminist rants, and Jack and his awkward hockey-robot personality.

And then there was Dex, the boy Derek missed the most of all; Dex, with his brilliant ginger hair and his amber eyes that matched his flaming temper. Derek had spent the entirety of first semester fighting with him, poking at him and riling him up, because there was something about Dex that made it impossible for Derek to stay completely chill.

It was somewhere around winter break that Derek realized why that was. He liked Dex, much more than just his d-man partner, much more than someone he was sorta frenemies with. And so he stopped fighting with the other boy so much, because Derek didn't want them to be frenemies, he wanted them to just be friends.

Derek toned it down, and they still bickered, but it was something playful, light-hearted and suddenly they weren't just friends, they were best friends. They did homework together, hung out during Haus parties; they did things that were simple and fun, things that drew them closer together.

And so Derek's crush grew, but he managed, and he and Dex grew used to each other, but Derek didn't realize just how used to it he was until summer came, and they said goodbye, parting ways for nearly three months. Derek had gotten so used to turning to Dex for everything, that when summer came, and he turned, but Dex wasn't there, it felt like a giant part of himself was suddenly missing.

But Derek promised himself he'd be chill about it. He wasn't going to text Dex every minute of the day, like some super clingy not-even-boyfriend. He didn't push, didn't start conversations, and Dex didn't much either, though he said that was because there was no cell reception on a boat in the middle of the open ocean. But they didn't talk, and Derek ached.

Something Derek learned about himself over those first few weeks was that he could promise himself he'd be chill all he wanted, but he was too weak to refrain from stalking Dex—through social media. Dex had never given out any of his social medias to the team, keeping his communications with them limited to purely through text. But Derek reasoned that he never told them they couldn't find them, so he scoured the internet for them. William J. Poindexter's Facebook page had no privacy settings to it at all, so Derek could scroll through at will, and after a few other searches Derek is less than proud of, he managed to also come up with his Twitter, Instagram, and shockingly, his Tumblr. And maybe he's also less than proud that this is what he's come to, because this is probably worse than clingy, constantly texting not-even-boyfriend.

Dex's social medias are constantly updated, because apparently even though Dex has no cell reception on the boat, he has internet, something he has no explanation for, but something he's not complaining about either. So that's how Derek ends up keeping tabs on what and how his best friend is doing.

And that's how he spends his summer. Texting with the Samwell guys, binge watching TV, and stalking Dex.

* * *

His first texts from Dex since the end of the school year don't even come until July 31st.

 ** _Dex:_** _Strained my back on the boat_

 ** _Dex:_ **_Can't work for the rest of the summer_

 ** _Dex:_** _Ugh_

Derek tries really hard not to make his first thought about that information be that Dex will be able to text him for the rest of the summer, and fails spectacularly. He also fails at not texting back suspiciously quickly, firing back two texts in a matter of seconds.

 ** _Nursey:_** _That really sucks man_

 ** _Nursey:_ **_Does it hurt much?_

Dex, surprisingly, texts back almost as quickly as Derek had.

 ** _Dex:_** _Not really_

 ** _Dex:_** _Just enough to be annoying I guess_

 ** _Nursey:_** _Got anyone there with you?_

He asks because he's has had his fair share of injuries, and though they were all hockey-related, he imagines it's the same for injuries suffered anywhere else. When you're injured, it's damn near impossible to take care of yourself.

Derek frowns at the next texts that come in.

 ** _Dex:_** _Nah, it's just me_

 ** _Dex:_** _But I'll be fine_

 ** _Dex:_** _It's really not that bad_

That's exactly the sort of thing Derek would expect Dex to say about his injury, because to Dex, admitting that his back really hurts would mean admitting that he needs help, and he just doesn't do that, because he's a stubborn ass. Still, Derek has nothing he can really use to call Dex out on his bullshit, so he'll just have to wait it out.

 ** _Nursey:_** _Okay man. Keep me updated._

What he'll do then is he'll just keep a close eye on Dex's social medias. Maybe Dex will post some more useful information on Twitter or Tumblr or something.

* * *

Dex doesn't reply, and he doesn't post anything until around noon the next day. But what he does eventually post has Derek scrambling.

 **poindexterwj24: man this fucking sucks**

 **poindexterwj24: my back hurts sm. fml**

Derek shakes his head, a decision made in seconds as he hurriedly exits his room to find a duffel bag to shove some clothes in. He's honestly a little disappointed that Dex doesn't trust him enough to be honest about how badly he's hurt, but at the same time, he's really not surprised; it's just who Dex is.

But his mind is made up. Whether Dex thinks he needs help or not, he's going to be getting it. Derek is bored out of his mind in New York, with no friends to visit and no responsibilities to speak of. No one here is going to miss him if he leaves and goes to Maine for—well, for however long he can convince Dex to let him stay. And besides, this provides him with a perfect, ironclad reason for him to visit his best friend who he misses like hell.

There's only one problem. He doesn't know where Dex lives, exactly. He knows what town Dex lives in, but he doesn't know his address, and if he asks Dex, he's not going to get anything. Dex won't give it to him, because Dex won't want him to come. But he does know someone who has Dex's address that he can probably convince to give it to him.

 ** _Nursey:_** _What's Dex's address?_

 ** _Lardo:_** _..._

 ** _Lardo:_** _Why do you need to know?_

 ** _Nursey:_ **_Dex hurt his back fishing_

 ** _Nursey:_ **_He's home by himself_

 ** _Nursey:_ **_And he's not being truthful about how much it hurts_

 ** _Lardo:_** _You know he's not being truthful...how?_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Never mind, that's not important_

 ** _Lardo:_** _But you're telling me that you're going to drive to his house_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Specifically for the purpose of taking care of him_

Derek's face is burning up, and honestly, he's very glad that this conversation is taking place over text, and not face-to-face.

 ** _Nursey:_** _Yes_

 ** _Lardo:_** _He's going to pissed when you show up_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Especially when he finds out why_

And yeah, sure, Derek knows he'll be pissed. But the truth is he's counting on that, because he needs Dex to be distracted so that he doesn't think too hard about the fact that Derek drove to Maine because Dex hurt himself.

 ** _Nursey:_** _I kno he will_

 ** _Nursey:_** _But I don't want him to hurt himself worse trying to act like he's fine_

 ** _Nursey:_** _U kno he'll do that_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Not sure that's your problem tho_

 ** _Nursey:_** _Hockey practices will b starting up soon_

 ** _Nursey:_** _So of course it's my problem_

 ** _Nursey:_** _I don't want to be without my partner bc he's an idiot_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Okay but..._

 ** _Lardo:_** _What ur talking about doing is r &h level shit_

 ** _Lardo:_** _And I kno u and dex are closer now_

 ** _Lardo:_** _But last I checked, ur still not on a r &h level_

 ** _Nursey:_** _Lecture me about how its not us if u want_

 ** _Nursey:_** _But idc_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Okay..._

 ** _Lardo:_** _and you *honestly* have no other motive for going up there?_

And Derek can't lie to Lardo, not really. This entire conversation has pretty much proved that she sees right through him. So he lies, but in a way that she'll know that he is.

 ** _Nursey:_** _..._

 ** _Nursey:_ **_no_

 ** _Lardo:_ **_Hmm_

 ** _Lardo:_** _That's what I thought_

 ** _Lardo:_** _Fine, I'll give you his address_

 ** _Lardo:_** _But I'm not responsible if he kills u for showing up_

 ** _Nursey:_** _Noted_

The next message Lardo sends him is Dex's address. Derek quickly copies it into Google Maps and slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and races down to the garage, picking out the least ostentatious car they have (which is, ugh, a _Lexus_ ) and speeding off on the nearly seven and a half hour drive, before he can convince himself that this is a terrible idea.

* * *

By the time he realizes it is indeed an incredibly dumb idea, Derek is sitting in Dex's driveway. He's half considering simply turning around and leaving, so he can pretend that he was chiller than driving to Maine without hesitation, but by now it's 8:30 at night, and he just drove seven and a half hours. In other words, he's not chiller than this, and he's in _way_ too deep turn back now.

Derek stares at the Poindexter's house as he attempts to find the nerve to step out of his car and knock on the front door. The house itself is a small, one story structure, with a dirty white siding and shingling on the roof that appears to be on its last legs. It's hard to make out in the waning evening light, but it looks like parts of the roof are covered with tarp. The house doesn't have a porch, just a small concrete slab in front of the entrance in the building, and there's a window on either side of the front door, with faded black shutters and long-dead bushes in the ground underneath them.

The whole building appears dilapidated, like it's barely standing, barely being held together, and in an instant, Derek understands how and why Dex learned his handyman skills that have been so useful around the Haus. Such skills were definitely needed to hold a place like this together.

And it's small. Man, does Dex's house look _tiny_. Dex has three brothers and sister, and even though they're all at least ten years older than him, there was still a point where this house—this miniscule residence—had to somehow hold seven people in it, and Derek just doesn't see how it _could_ , though he'll be the first to admit that his perspective is skewed. He lives in a—well, and an almost-mansion that like, _fifteen_ people could comfortably live in. Certainly, it's more than enough space for three. They can all be in the house at the same time for weeks on end, and never see each other.

But seeing this, the place where Dex likely grew up—it suddenly puts a lot of things Derek knows about Dex into a different context.

It takes Derek almost fifteen minutes to gather his courage and step out of the car. He pulls his bag out of the back seat and tosses the strap over his shoulder. He shuffles up to the front door, taking a deep breath before he harshly raps his knuckles on it. A minute passes with no response, so Derek tries the doorbell. When a few persistent presses, the tinny sound of a recording of a bell echoing off the walls inside the house, brings Derek no answer, Derek shrugs and turns back towards his car. He can find a hotel or something and drive back to New York in the morning.

He's about to step off the porch, such as it is, when he hears the door open behind him.

"Nursey, what the _fuck_?" Dex says sharply, and _jeez_ , why is Derek so irrationally pleased to hear Dex snapping at him angrily? When did he get this far gone on Dex?

Derek wipes the stupid grin off his face and settles an easy smirk into its place before he turns back around. "It's good to see you too Dex," he replies coolly, sticking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.

Dex is hunched over, hand on his back, leaning against the doorframe like he needs it to stay upright. "I thought I told you not to come," Dex hisses through gritted teeth.

And that's totally not true. Derek checked (he was halfway to Maine when he did, but he _did_ check). "Nah man, you just said I didn't _need_ to come," Derek answers, shrugging.

"And you—you took that to mean that I wanted you to come anyway?" Dex scowls, and he sounds furious, but there's something... _off_. Derek has no idea what, but it doesn't feel the same as when Dex usually gets angry at him.

"No," Derek says, brushing the thought off as he arches an eyebrow at Dex. "I took it to mean that you were hurt worse than you were willing to admit. And it looks like I was right."

"How—why would you even think that?" Dex asks, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening as his face starts to flush.

"Seriously man?" Derek says, shaking his head. "You think I didn't learn a thing or two about you when we spent like—I don't know, 90% of spring semester together?"

Dex's blush deepens. "No, I know you did, I'm just—"

"Too much of a stubborn ass to ask for help?" Derek finishes, narrowing his eyes on Dex pointedly.

"Well—"

"Yeah, that's what I thought bro. That's like, the first thing I figured out about you," Derek chuckles, smacking Dex on the bicep. "Now, are you gonna let me in or not?"

"I— _fine_ ," Dex huffs, stepping back and sweeping an arm towards the interior to direct Derek inside. The front door goes directly into the living room, which consists of a couch that looks almost as nasty as the green one in the Haus, a worn out brown armchair, a beat-up coffee table, and a TV. Derek stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, nervously playing with the strap of his bag. "You know, you're a bit stubborn too," Dex grumbles, limping past Derek to the couch, depositing himself in the nest that he's already made.

"Never said I wasn't," Derek answers. He's blushing a little as he watches Dex settle into the pile of blankets kind of in a way that reminds Derek of Charlie, his childhood black lab. Thank God his dark complexion hides all but his worst blushes.

Dex eyes his bag, hanging off of Derek's shoulder, and sighs. "My siblings have kinda turned most of the bedrooms into storage so like...mine and my parents' are the only ones that aren't completely trashed."

"Okay, so you want me to like, take the couch?" Derek inquires, because obviously, with his back, Dex is sleeping in his own bed, and it's like, a general rule that the master bedroom is _always_ off-limits.

"No," Dex says, shaking his head. "But I don't know where you're going to sleep right now so just...drop your bag in my room and I'll figure it out later."

"'Kay man, that's chill," Derek replies, and Dex groans and rolls his eyes. Derek briefly thinks that it's a sign of just how far they've come, that chill only exasperates Dex, as opposed to making him furious.

"Hey, this is my house. The word _chill_ is off-limits man," Dex quips, still in the middle of rolling his eyes.

"Oh? And just how do you plan to enforce that?" Derek shoots back, and _whoa_ , did his tone make that come out sounding suggestive. He needs to _chill_.

Dex notices, and he blushes as he says, "I'll just kick you out."

"Fair enough," Derek says, eager to move past the unwarranted slip of his tongue. "So your room is...?"

"Down the hall, second door on the right."

Derek quickly goes down the hall, merely sticking his head into Dex's room long enough to let his bag hit the floor with a heavy thud before he walks out and plops down on the couch. It jostles the other boy, and Dex ends up slightly listing towards him, their shoulders resting up against each other. Dex makes no attempt to move away though, and Derek tries not to think about how the contact makes his whole body crackle like a live wire.

"So man, tell me, what did you do, exactly?" Derek asks as a distraction. It's a distraction, but he's also really curious, because it's _fishing_. How in the world do you hurt yourself while _fishing_?

"I just did something stupid," Dex answers, his hands idly fiddling with the TV remote.

"Well there's a real shocker," Derek chirps, using the back of his hand to lightly, playfully smack the outside of Dex's thigh.

"Shut the fuck up," Dex mumbles, and Derek laughs.

"Okay, but seriously, what happened?"

"You've never been on a fishing boat," Dex answers, shrugging and shaking them both. "You wouldn't understand, even if I told you."

"Dude, I've like, seen _The Deadliest Catch_ and shit. I think I have an idea," Derek argues.

Dex turns his head, peering at him wide-eyed for a second before he completely loses it. _"Dude,"_ Dex says, laughing so hard he's struggling for breath. "That's Alaskan crab fishing."

Derek wrinkles his nose up in confusion. "There's a difference?"

" _There's a difference?_ " Dex mimics, giggling. "Yeah, of course there is! Fishing off the Cape is nothing like that."

"Oh," Derek says, trying to frown and having a hard time, because Dex is smiling and laughing, and that makes Derek want to do the same.

"I swear, if we were doing that kinda shit, I wouldn't go anywhere near the boat," Dex remarks, heaving a deep breath as he finally stops guffawing. "Like bro, the shit they do on that show is _scary_."

Derek nods. "Yeah, it is. But you gotta admit, it makes for good TV."

"Sure does."

"Hey bro, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Dex questions, a half-grin on his face, and Derek grins back because they're clearly on the same wavelength here.

" _Deadliest Catch_ marathon!" they both exclaim at the same time, high-fiving each other, and the moment is freakishly similar to what Ransom and Holster do, and that makes Derek feel warm and bubbly inside.

Their "marathon" ends up lasting less than two episodes. After the first episode finishes, Derek notices that Dex's eyelids are starting to droop.

"Hey man, are you gonna be good for another episode?" Derek wonders. If Dex is going to fall asleep, doing that on the couch is probably the worst possible place for him to do it.

Dex lets out a long, loud yawn. "What? Oh yeah, I'm good."

Dex has the remote, and clicks to the next episode before Derek can push the matter any further, so he shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV.

About ten minutes later, Derek feels a weight suddenly settle on his shoulder. Derek turns his head and, sure enough, Dex has fallen asleep, his head lolling over to rest on Derek's shoulder.

 _It's classic Dex, to say that he's good to go when he's really not_ , Derek thinks, chuckling quietly to himself as he puts an arm around the other boy.

Derek tries to turn his attention back to the episode playing on the TV screen, but the warm line of Dex's body leaning up against his is proving to be a distraction Derek can't ignore.

Derek turns to look at the other boy, observing him quietly. There's always a hard line to Dex's shoulders, a furrow to his brow, a squint to his eyes, and a wrinkle to his nose. Dex is always so tense, always looking like he's ready for a fight, always seeming like he's wait for the next blow to land. But he's not like that now. Derek has never seen him quite this relaxed, where his shoulders have fallen from their normal place up near his jaw, where his face is smoothed out and calm. It's—well, Derek wishes Dex looked like this more often, when he's awake.

Belatedly, Derek realizes he's started running his hand through Dex's thick, auburn hair and—he's making this moment weird. He really, desperately needs to find his chill. Derek turns back to the episode, letting his arm drop so that it's limply curled around the sleeping boy. He'll just watch the end of this episode, and when it's over, he'll wake Dex up so he can move him to the bed.

Next thing Derek knows, he's being roused from sleep by the light streaming through the windows of the Poindexter's living room. He rubs at his eyes, willing himself more awake when he realizes— _shit_ , it's morning and they slept the _whole night_ on the couch.

Derek feels Dex start to stir, and he sits stock-still as the other boy begins to wake up. Dex sits up, and his eyes fly open as he inhales sharply.

 _"Fuck,"_ he mutters.

Derek feels a giant pang of guilt and regret in his chest when he sees the pained look on Dex's face. Right now Dex doesn't even seem to register that he's there, and Derek doesn't want to bring attention to himself, to draw Dex's ire, but it's going to happen eventually. There's only so long he can put it off. "M-morning," Derek stutters hesitantly.

Dex's head whips around to glare at him, setting his jaw as fiery anger begins to show in his eyes, mixing with the pain writ on his face. "What the _fuck_ Nurse?"

Derek swallows. "Uh..."

"Why the fuck did you let me sleep on the couch?" Dex snarls in fury.

It takes Derek a second, but he gets his footing back and fires back at Dex argumentatively, because that's what he does when Dex is angry, regardless of whether his anger his directed at him or not, regardless of whether his anger is justified or not. "I didn't let you sleep on the couch. You fell asleep after I asked you if you were okay to watch another episode and _you said yes_."

"Oh, I see, so you believed me then, but not before!" Dex yells, making Derek lean back away from him slightly.

"Nope, I didn't believe you then either, I just let it slide because it wasn't worth it man," Derek retorts, because it wasn't. Attempting to challenge Dex on whether he was tired or not would've been pointless; it would've simply exploded into a serious argument, something that Derek was growing to loathe doing with Dex. Playful arguments where they weren't really mad at each other were fine, but he hated it when they got mad each other anymore.

 _"It wasn't worth it?"_ Dex asks incredulously. "So what you're saying is that letting me wake up in more pain was somehow more worth it?"

"No, of course not. I—"

"Then why didn't you wake me up? You know what, never mind. It doesn't matter," Dex spits out bitterly. "Thanks for coming here and making it worse, but you can get the fuck out now," he finishes, pointing to the door before standing up and hobbling out towards the bathroom.

Shit, he's fucked up. He's fucked up so badly. And it's not that it's really a surprise, because Derek just really fucks most everything up, but he had hoped that for once, he could do this right. But he couldn't; he was supposed to be helping Dex, and he just made it worse.

But his dilemma is that if Dex is worse, that means he literally cannot go, whether Dex told him to go or not, but he can't stay if he doesn't have any idea what he's doing, if he's going to continue to make things worse, so he calls Lardo in a panic, hoping that she'll know what to do.

"Derek Nurse, you better have a _damn_ good reason for calling me at 9:00 AM on a day in the middle of the summer," Lardo grumbles when she answers his call.

"How are you supposed to treat a back strain?" Derek asks, the words coming out in an alarmed rush.

"I—Nursey, are you fucking _kidding_ me?" Lardo groans.

"No," Derek sighs, harshly rubbing his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Lardo exhales loudly. "You mean to tell me that you didn't bother to look up how to take care of Dex? You just rushed up there?"

"Uh," Derek utters, and God, for being an English major, sometimes he's just _sooo_ eloquent.

"Of course you didn't. Silly me, why would I bother with thinking you would?" Lardo mutters, mostly to herself. "Heat and painkillers Nursey. That's about all you can do."

"Seriously?" Derek questions, because for real, that's all he has to do? _That's_ what he fucked up?

"Yeah. And don't let him hunch over too much. Keep him standing up straight, and make sure that he's sitting up straight or lying down flat if he's not standing," she adds.

"Oh, okay," Derek says, and _jeez_ , he could've figured most of that out himself if he had just stopped to think. But he didn't because—because he's an idiot—not that that's news to him.

"Why are you even asking now? You've already been there for a day?" Lardo questions interrogatively.

"I uh—we sorta like—accidentally fell asleep on the couch? And that—"

"Made it worse, yeah, of course it did," Lardo chides, and Derek can easily picture the way she's shaking her head at him. "Jesus Christ Nursey, you're a dumbass."

"Tell me something I don't know," Derek mumbles. "Thanks for the help though."

"Yeah, whatever," she responds dismissively. "Just stop with the whole 'too busy being a lovesick puppy' shit and actually help him, 'kay?" she adds, and then immediately hangs up, leaving Derek blushing furiously on the couch as Dex walks back into the living room.

"Why are you still here?" Dex inquires venomously. Derek ignores the belligerent tone to his voice and leaps to his feet, pushing Dex towards the couch that he just vacated.

"Lay down," Derek orders firmly.

"What are you doing?" Dex questions, looking down at the couch's cushions skeptically as Derek continues to nudge him towards them.

"I'm taking care of you, like I'm supposed to be doing," Derek answers simply.

A flash of trepidation crosses Dex's face. "Nuh-uh, no, do not _even_ ," he protests vigorously. "You made it _worse_ , what makes you think I'm going to trust you now?"

Derek sighs. It's a fair question.

"Because...man, last night was an accident, okay? I was totally going to get you up once the second episode finished but I just—I didn't know I was falling asleep too. I mean, c'mon Dex, I'm not stupid. I didn't do that on purpose, like, it's not like I _want_ you to get hurt worse. Like _shit_ man, practice starts in like two weeks, and I don't want you to still be out of commission by then, like you will be if you don't let me help you."

"It's not that b—"

"Do not even try to pull that shit," Derek interrupts, irritation at Dex flaring up. "I'm not going to buy any of this 'it's not that bad' crap because you were literally yelling at me not five minutes ago because your back hurt so much!"

Dex straightens up like he's posturing himself to argue with Derek, but he ends up doubling over, breathing heavily as what seems to be a twinge of pain hits him. Derek seizes the moment where Dex is incapacitated, guiding over to the couch and forcing him to lie down on it.

"Don't move," Derek warns, heading for the bathroom in search of an electric hot pad and painkillers. He finds them pretty easily, which is a good thing, because if he had had to ask Dex where they were, he would've most certainly gotten up to get them himself.

"Lie down on that for a while," he instructs, holding the hot pad out for Dex to take once he plugs it in and turns it on.

"But it's uncomfortable," Dex whines, complaining as he shoves it back towards Derek.

"Tough," Derek says unsympathetically. "Use it anyway."

Dex huffs, but nonetheless yanks it out of Derek's hand and gingerly adjusts himself so that when he's lying down, the hot pad is on his lower back.

Derek nods approvingly. "So, where is your kitchen?"

"Um, why?" Dex replies hesitantly.

"I'm hungry, and we could both use some breakfast," Derek shrugs nonchalantly.

Dex honestly looks frightened by the prospect of Derek attempting to cook, but he still points Derek in the right direction. Derek enters the kitchen, glancing around confidently, because making something for breakfast can't be that hard, right? If seems pretty easy when Bitty does it.

* * *

Nearly an hour and a half later, Derek has come to the conclusion that Bitty simply makes it _look_ easy, because so far nothing that he's tried to do has been easy. He's covered in flour, there's batter splattered on the walls, there's a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, and there's thick, black smoke billowing from a pan on the stove.

Apparently, he's completely incompetent in the kitchen, just like he's incompetent at everything that isn't poetry and hockey. He needs help from someone who's not, someone who's a master in the kitchen. And he knows who that is, but Derek knows that he's going to be severely disappointed in him, but he swallows his pride, because he clearly needs professional help.

 ** _Nursey:_** _...Bits_

 ** _Nursey:_ **_Are you available to skype?_

 ** _Bitty:_ **_Uh_

 ** _Bitty:_** _Yes_

 ** _Bitty:_** _Why?_

It'll be useless for Derek to try and explain in words, so he taps on Bitty's icon in the Skype app, bracing himself for the lashing he's going to get for the damage he's caused to the Poindexter's kitchen.

"Nursey?" Bitty says when he answers, and Derek grimaces. "Sweetheart, what's the emergency?"

Derek wordlessly turns his phone around to show Bitty the disaster area that he's turned the kitchen into.

"Oh good _Lord_ ," he hears Bitty gasp. "Derek Nurse, what in God's name did you do to that poor, innocent kitchen?"

"I uh..." Derek replies, scratching the back of his neck, his stomach tight at the look of dismay he's receiving. "I was just trying to...make breakfast?"

"Oh _honey_ ," Bitty sighs, shaking his head. "I ain't sure what you were tryin' to make buy—"

"Pancakes," Derek mumbles in response.

"Those ain't even that hard," Bitty says, sounding stunned, and then a second later...oh God, there's the disappointment, and Derek sort of wants to be swallowed up by the floor rather than have that look directed at him for any longer. "How did you mess up that badly?"

"I don't know," Derek shrugs, because it seemed like one minute, everything was fine, and the next it was—well, _that_.

"DEAR GOD NURSE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?" Derek hears Dex shout from the living room. He hasn't set off the smoke alarm yet, but there's a pungent odor emanating from the smoking pan and it was only a matter of time before Dex noticed it.

"Is that Dex?" Bitty asks, disappointment giving way to confusion, thank fuck.

"YOU BETTER NOT BE GETTING UP POINDEXTER," is what Derek yells back, rather than answering Bitty.

"I'm takin' that as a yes," Bitty says when Derek turns his attention back to the Skype call. "Can I ask why?"

"He's an idiot and strained his back on the boat," Derek explains with a sigh.

"I see," Bitty says, scratching his chin. "And you're with him because—"

"I—holy _fuck._ _Derek_ ," Dex gapes as he enters the kitchen and surveys the scene that's unfolding.

"Huh, Derek," Bitty hums, a curious look on his face. "That's new."

Dex's head turns at the sound of Bitty's voice coming from Derek's phone. "Oh thank God," Dex exhales, appearing in frame just over Derek's shoulder. "Bitty, you _have_ to help me. I think Nursey is trying to kill me!"

"I am not!" Derek protests. "And I thought I told you not to get up."

Dex scoffs. "Yeah, like I'm going to stay out there while you burn my parents' house down. Besides, I've been lying on that thing for an hour and a half. I feel way better now."

"Still, more heat isn't going to hurt you...I think," Derek responds. He's not sure that staying on the hot pad for longer won't hurt Dex but—even if it did, how much harm could a little extra heat do?

"You _think_?" Dex quips doubtfully. "Shit Nursey, for someone who's last name is _Nurse_ , you sure do suck at being one."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Har har," he fakes a laugh. "Look, just go lay back down. I had this mostly under control. I just needed a little bit of help."

There's a moment where the room falls silent, and he can feel both Bitty and Dex's eyes on him, examining him dubiously before they both burst into laughter.

"You call this 'mostly under control'?" Dex chuckles, smacking Derek on the back before he slings an arm around his shoulders.

 _"Oh honey,"_ Bitty giggles.

Derek crosses his free arm across his chest and pouts. "You're laughing at me."

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Bitty says, wiping away a tear from his eye.

"It's just—if this is what 'under control' looks like, I don't want to see the alternative," Dex adds, leaning on Derek for support as he continues to chortle uncontrollably.

And he has a point. Derek doesn't really want to see that either. "So um, Bitty...will you—" Derek starts, because that was the point to calling Bitty in the first place.

"Yes, I'll help y'all, for Dex's sake," Bitty smiles and shakes his head.

"Thanks Bits," Dex says, and Derek likes the way that he's still leaning on him, even though Dex has stopped laughing.

"But first of all, y'all are gonna have to clean up this mess," Bitty adds sternly, in an almost-motherly tone.

"And I think that's my cue to—"

"Nope, you got up, so now you're going to help," Derek says, catching Dex's arm before he can withdraw it and exit the kitchen.

"But Nurseyyyyyyyyyy," Dex whines, and Derek shakes his head and points to the counter.

"Don't even," Derek says, grinning slightly. He won't have Dex do anything particularly strenuous, but he can help, since he said himself he was feeling a lot better.

 _"Fine,"_ Dex huffs, shuffling over to the counter resignedly. Bitty makes a questioning noise that Derek doesn't notice.

"You won't be much help to us now," Derek comments, turning back to Bitty. "We'll call back after we're done cleaning up."

Bitty nods and hangs up, and Derek pockets his phone and strides over to join Dex at the counter.

* * *

Once they're done cleaning up, they call Bitty back on Dex's laptop, and he guides them step by step through making the pancakes. They turn out great, but that's probably because Dex did most of the work, carefully following Bitty's guidance. Derek just tried to stay mostly out of the way and help where/when he could.

They've long since finished cooking and eating, but they're still on Skype, catching up with Bitty because Dex hasn't talked to him much all summer...and come to think of it, other than a few stray texts, Derek hasn't talked to Bitty much either.

Bitty's currently regaling them with a tale about the "pie-judging scandal" that took place at the Morgan County fair. As best Derek can follow, Bitty still took first place, but some woman named Margaret took second place with "quite possibly the worst pecan pie I have ever seen and tasted," simply because her husband was on the judging committee. Apparently, she was supposed to get first place, but none of the other judges could be convinced once they had a taste of Bitty's maple-crusted apple pie.

"Madison was in an uproar over that for nearly a week, I swear," Bitty says as a door opens and slams shut.

"Vlogging again, eh Bitty?" Derek hears someone ask off-camera, and that—that's definitely Jack; no one else any of them know actually says "eh," not even fellow Canadian Ransom—but what is Jack doing at Bitty's house (or vice-versa)? And since when does Jack call him _Bitty_ , and not _Bittle_?

Jack's torso comes into view, and he suddenly dips down, leaning over and kissing Bitty on the cheek.

 _Wait, **what**?_

Derek quickly turns to Dex, whose eyes are transfixed on the laptop screen as his mouth hangs open. Bitty is turned to look at Jack, who has disappeared out of frame almost as rapidly as he appeared, his jaw flapping as he struggles to find something to say to Jack, so Derek lightly taps on Dex's shoulder.

 _"What was that?"_ he mouths.

Dex shrugs, looking just as perplexed as Derek feels. _"No idea,"_ he mouths back.

 _"But you saw that too, right?"_

Dex nods.

Bitty has finally come up with the right words and starts to stutter. "Uhhh, n-no, darling, I'm not...vlogging," he replies, blushing furiously. "I was just um...I'm on Skype with Nursey and Dex, sweetheart."

"Oh," Jack says quietly. He comes back into view, standing behind Bitty. He wraps his arms around Bitty's middle, dropping his chin onto Bitty's shoulder. "Hey guys."

Both Derek and Dex are speechless, stunned by this sudden revelation about Jack and Bitty, and they stare at the screen with dumbfounded looks.

Bitty sighs and shakes his head. "Oh Jack, honey, look at what you did to those poor boys. You broke them."

"They're just a little surprised, eh?" Jack remarks, gently nuzzling his head against Bitty's.

"I have to say darling that I'm with them," Bitty responds, his hands settling on top of Jack's.

Jack subtly shrugs his shoulders. "It's just Dex and Nursey. I mean, I thought we were going to tell the Samwell guys."

"Of course we were goin' to sweetheart," Bitty answers, twisting his head around so he can see Jack's face. "I just didn't think it was goin' to be so soon."

"Kinda hard to explain away what they saw," Jack replies. "Besides, I think they'll understand."

"Understand what?" Dex blurts out, saying what Derek is thinking.

Bitty flushes again. "Jack is—he's my boyfriend," he mumbles, and—well, Bitty is happy 99% of the time, but Derek has never seen Bitty grin this widely before.

Derek clears his throat and shakes the cobwebs out of his head, because this is like, a big step, and one of them should probably say something. "Uh, congrats man," he says.

Derek wonders what signs there were that Jack and Bitty were into each other, because this news is completely out of left field. How was he on a team with them for a _year_ and didn't manage to pick up a single hint about their apparent feelings for each other? At the same time he's wondering this, he notices that Bitty is wearing Jack's shirt—well, he can't know for sure, but it has to be Jack's shirt, because it's much too big for Bitty and forget the signs from the last year, how the fuck did he not notice that earlier in the Skype call?

"Thanks," both Jack and Bitty reply at the same time. Bitty is still blushing, and Jack is grinning, and he looks both immensely happy and quite pleased with himself at the same time.

"And I'm sure you both realize this, but this can't get out beyond other members of the Samwell team," Jack adds sternly, his captain's voice not a bit rusty despite him not likely using it all summer.

"Uh, yeah, of course," Dex stammers, and Derek nods in agreement.

"Good," Jack says. "So, if you don't mind my asking, why are you two together?"

"Oh, Dex hurt himself," Derek explains quickly. "So I um, I drove up here to make sure he was taken care of. Y'know, make sure he rests so he's ready when practice starts."

Jack hums approvingly.

"It was nothing serious," Dex shrugs, and Derek fights the urge to roll his eyes. Why does he keep insisting it wasn't that bad when it clearly was? "I would've been fine."

Derek watches as Bitty, who had just watched Dex move easily around the kitchen as they made breakfast, raises an eyebrow skeptically. "I guess you weren't the only one who made up an excuse to get your boyfriend to visit," he comments quietly, turning to catch Jack's eye.

"I didn't have to give you much of an excuse, eh?" Jack grins. "You made most of the excuses up yourself."

"Well tell me, what was I supposed to do when you kept sending me texts like _I miss you_ and _my apartment feels empty and lonely without you_ and _I haven't even used the kitchen yet_?" Bitty giggles.

"Of course it was the one about the kitchen that got you up here," Jack smirks wickedly. "That's all I had to do to get you to come running, eh?"

"I admit to _nothin'_ , Mr. Zimmermann—"

Dex's brain finally catches up with what's been said, and he shouts, interrupting Bitty. "Wait, you think we're— _what_?!" he remarks incredulously. In the meantime, Derek is too busy choking on his own spit to add anything.

"But after last semester I thought y'all were—and then Nursey drove to—"

Jack clears his throat over Bitty's stammering. "Um, I think I'm going to go take a shower," he says, nuzzling Bitty's neck.

"You know what I think I'll join you see y'all later bye!" Bitty says in a rush, and then the call ends.

Derek glances over at Dex, whose blush is at least three shades a darker red than Derek has ever seen it.

"So um, breakfast was good," Derek says, scratching the back of his neck as he stares down at the floor.

"I uh—yeah, I guess it was," Dex mumbles, not looking at Derek as he answers.

Dex's laptop dings into the awkward silence that's fallen over them, indicating that Dex is receiving another Skype call, this one from Chowder. Dex peeks up at it, but makes no move to accept it, so Derek does it for him.

"H-hey C," Derek says when he answers, his voice unsteady.

"OMG! Bitty already told me but I had to check for myself!" Chowder says, vibrating excitedly. He's shaking whatever he's using as a camera, and his head bobs in and out of frame. "I can't believe you guys are actually together!"

"I—I'm in Maine, yeah," Derek replies weakly. He's not sure how much Bitty told Chowder, and how much Chowder assumed on his own, so he's not going to clarify anything until he knows what Chowder thinks they're doing.

"So what are you guys going to do while you're there? Are you going sightseeing? OH! I know, you guys should go on a picnic date to the beach! That would be totally romantic and 'swawesome you know Caitlin is visiting in a week and I think I'm going to do the same thing—"

"Whoa C, calm down," Derek says, rubbing harshly at his eyes.

"Yeah. I—I don't know what Bitty told you, but we're—we're not." Dex stammers. He's not looking at the screen and he's not looking at Derek, rather he's looking at some spot on the floor, to his right, sweeping his gaze in the opposite direction from Derek.

"Whatever it is he said, Dex really did hurt himself," Derek sighs, slumping back in his chair. "I'm just here to make sure he doesn't hurt himself worse."

"Oh, so you just can't really go anywhere? Well that's cool, there are plenty of romantic things you can do at home or wherever I mean some of my best dates have just been me and Caitlin hanging out somewhere—"

"No, Chowder, you're not getting it," Dex exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nursey and I are not dating."

"You're not?" Chowder frowns, his eyes flitting back and forth between them.

"No," they both respond simultaneously.

"But I thought Bitty said—" Chowder begins to protest.

"Bitty assumed," Derek shrugs, though Derek has no idea where the assumption came from.

"But last semester," Chowder splutters. "You—you were flirting all the time—and I thought—"

"Who says flirting has to go anywhere," Derek answers quickly. Because yes he was flirting, and Dex often gave back as good as he got, but it never went anywhere. Dex didn't mean anything by it, except that he probably played along because it was fun.

"I—oh," Chowder says, his face falling. "I'm sorry guys."

"It's fine Chowder," Dex murmurs.

"Yeah, it's chill man," Derek says, and it says a lot about this situation that Dex doesn't groan or tell him off for using it.

"Okay...well, I'm just gonna..." Chowder says, trailing off.

Derek nods. "Yeah, talk to you later C."

Chowder hangs up, leaving him and Dex sitting in the uncomfortably quiet kitchen.

"That was uh, that was kinda funny," Derek chuckles nervously, breaking the silence before it can make him lose his chill.

"Yeah, I guess," Dex mutters, his face still the same dark shade of maroon that it was before Chowder called.

"Like, I can't believe that Chowder, Bitty, _and_ Jack all thought we were..."

Derek's sentence fades out, because he has no idea where he was going with that. He's met by awkward silence, and they end up in an almost ten minute standoff over who's going to break it first. In the end, it's Dex, but Derek was actually pretty close too.

"I uh...I'm gonna...heat pad...you know," Dex says, almost inaudibly as he gestures back to the living room.

"I'll—" Derek starts, standing up so fast that he knocks over the chair he was sitting in. "Let me help," he says, fixing the chair. He's still here for a reason, and even if it's awkward, he's going to do his job. They don't have to talk much for this to work.

* * *

It isn't until late in the evening that Dex actually says something. He's just finished up soaking in the bath after Derek had insisted on drawing one, cause like sitting in hot water is good for relaxing the muscles. Derek's in Dex's room, helping him get situated in bed.

"That was—the bath was really nice," Dex murmurs.

Derek is startled, because they haven't said anything since the Skype calls this morning, and he simply expected that to continue indefinitely. "Oh. Well. That's good. Man," Derek replies. He winces, because his tone is all off, stilted and awkward.

"I'm sorry I've been quiet since—y'know," Dex says as he lies down on the bed, folding his hands on his chest. "I've just been trying to think about some stuff."

"It's chill man," Derek shrugs, plugging in the hot pad and handing it to Dex. He's not going to sleep with it on all night, because Derek is going to come in in about an hour and unplug it, but it'll be good for him at least to start with. "What all the guys said was totally unexpected and I get it," he adds.

Dex snorts and sits up, shaking his head. "Oh that? You think that's what this is about?"

"Well...yeah."

"No man, that was totally fine," Dex replies. "I mean, it's pretty easy to see how they might think that."

Derek swallows. _Shit_. He does not like the direction this conversation seems to be going.

"What do you mean?" he answers carefully, not wanting to give anything away, but that's hard when his chill is suddenly nowhere to be found.

"It's just—you came here with almost no hesitation at all, and you've been trying to take care of me, even though you and I both know you're terrible at it," Dex points out, and Derek's face suddenly feels very hot. "That uh, that definitely comes out looking a certain kind of way, don't you think?"

"I...no, I don't know," Derek says, playing dumb in an attempt to save face in this situation. He's almost certainly busted, but he's going to deny it for as long as he can.

"Derek. Why did you come here," Dex inquires, looking up at Derek with a smug, knowing expression. "What was the real reason you drove here seven and a half hours from New York?"

"I...I just wanted you to...you're my partner Dex. I need you to be 100%," Derek mumbles, intently studying the patterns in the shag carpet beneath his feet so he doesn't have to look Dex in the eye.

"Yeah, I know," Dex says, and Derek can hear the shit-eating grin, even if he won't look Dex in the face to see it. "But I know that's not all there is to it."

Derek is standing about a foot away from the side of Dex's bed, and Dex stretches out and grabs one of his hands, pulling him closer so that his knees are knocking up against the mattress. Derek has to change where he's staring, because the current position of his head means that he's staring right at Dex's...well...

"C-can't I just be—c-concerned about your well-being?" Derek stutters, and oh God, why can't he find his chill because like, shit, now he's utterly _fucked_.

"Yeah, of course you can," Dex says, yanking on his arm and forcing Derek to sit down on the edge of the bed. "But I know that you wouldn't have done this for Chowder, or Bitty, or anyone else."

"You don't know that," Derek protests feebly.

"Okay, so maybe I don't. But there is something else that I know, a secret that I have to tell you," Dex whispers, leaning in a little bit closer to Derek.

Derek finally gives up and looks up at Dex, eyes wide.

"I know you know what my Twitter is."

Fuck _fuck **fuck**_!

Dex must see the panic on Derek's face, because he smirks in response, and good God, Derek doesn't think his chill is ever going to return to him, at least not around Dex anymore.

"And I have another secret: I posted those tweets complaining about my back hoping that you would see them."

"What?"

"I didn't want to ask you to come because like, I have my pride, but I wanted you to come," Dex continues, and his voice is confident, but his hand, still holding Derek's is shuddering, and his face is a deep scarlet. "So I thought that maybe, if I made those tweets, you'd ignore me and come anyway."

"Why?" Derek barely chokes out, and he can't breathe, frozen by disbelief over what Dex seems to be implying.

"It's _August_ , Derek, and we've barely talked all summer. I wanted you to come because—because I missed you," Dex mumbles.

Their faces are so close that Derek can feel Dex's breath ghosting on his skin and he's not entirely sure how they ended up like this, but he likes it. "I missed you too," Derek murmurs. "That's—that's why I'm really here. I missed you."

Dex's eyes light up as his other hand comes up to cup Derek's cheek, and Derek is gone, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to kiss Dex.

Dex's lips are soft, if but a little chapped, and he kisses slowly, almost hesitantly, nothing like the fiery, aggressive passion Derek was expecting, but it feels exactly right. Derek smiles and sighs, putting a hand on the back of Dex's neck as he completely melts into the kiss.

Dex inhales sharply, and too late, Derek realizes he's leaning much of his weight into Dex, putting undue strain on his back. Derek breaks the kiss quick and pulls away.

"I'm sorry," Derek says breathlessly. He's blushing hard, harder than his complexion can cover, and his entire body feels like it's on fire. He needs more of Dex, so much more.

Dex's mouth is red and swollen, his pupils blown wide, and Derek feels his stomach flip as he realizes that Dex is feeling the same thing he's feeling in this moment.

"It's fine," Dex gasps, grinning. "I—I really don't mind at all."

"But I hurt your back— _again_ ," Derek groans and God, why can't he do anything right when it comes to taking care of Dex?

"Shut the fuck up," Dex says, lying down and pulling on Derek's arm, begging him to lie down with him. Derek complies, and curls up into Dex's arm snakes around him. "You're trying, and that's good enough."

"But I don't want to _try_ , I want to do it _right_ ," Derek huffs.

"I know," Dex chuckles, squeezing Derek's bicep. "I have you _all_ figured out."

"You do not," Derek scoffs, because in his more than 19 years, not one person has figured him out yet.

"Yeah, I do. You want everyone to think that you're super chill and don't care about _anything_ , but you care so goddamn much about _everything_ ," Dex explains, a shy yet sly little smile on his face.

"You are literally the first person to realize that."

"Well, you can fool a lot of people, but you've never been able to fool me," Dex says. "You, Derek Nurse, are not chill _at all_."

"What you just said can never leave this room," Derek says threateningly.

"Hey Derek... _chill_ ," Dex says, tilting his head and capturing Derek's lips in a kiss as Derek starts to laugh.


	10. Contagious Lack of Chill

**Summary:** _"_ _Seriously Poindexter, just chill out man," Nursey replies, so frustratingly coolly and calmly. "Your assault on my chill is getting you nowhere so just like, give it up bro."_

 _"_ _No dude, I'm not going to," Dex replies, sitting up straight. He's not going to because William J. Poindexter does not give up. Not ever, and_ _especially_ _not when Derek Nurse is involved._

* * *

 **Notes:**

 _Hey y'all, so this was an awesomely fun fic to write, and I have bahoreal/tumblr/com to thank for that! They really wanted to do an art/fic collab with me which I thought was so cool and I jumped at the chance to do it! I think both the fic and the art turned out amazing, and I'm so happy that we can share this with y'all! Hope you enjoy it! :)_

 _The art will be linked in the corresponding sections of the fic...just replace the "/" with a period_

 _Originally posted on AO3 and Tumblr on April 6, 2016_

* * *

"There must be something out there that will make you unchill!" Dex exclaims exasperatedly as they walk into the Haus. He flops down on the couch with a deep sigh, and Nursey sits down next to him. He glares at the other boy in annoyance. He's been trying all afternoon to find something that will make Nursey lose his goddamn chill, and so far he's been failing miserably.

"Seriously Poindexter, just chill out man," Nursey replies, so frustratingly coolly and calmly. "Your assault on my chill is getting you no where so just like, give it up bro."

"No dude, I'm not going to," Dex replies, sitting up straight. He's not going to because William J. Poindexter does not give up. Not ever, and _especially_ not when Derek Nurse is involved.

Unfortunately, he's almost out of ideas, out of things he can bring up that might make Nursey lose his chill. He's tried money, politics, Star Wars vs. Star Trek (seriously, some people are very passionately for one and against the other), and he's gotten nothing from Nursey. Not a furrowed brow, not a small downturn of the corner of his mouth, not pursed lips. Absolutely nothing.

"What if I started talking about sex?" Dex blurts out, because that's pretty much all he has left. He immediately regrets it though as he feels his face turn approximately five shades darker than it was a few seconds ago.

"Dude, like sex have been a taboo subject in your house, but my moms had no problem talking about it, so I'm chill talking about that if you are. But something tells me you're really not," Nursey says with a maddening smirk on his face.

Dex groans, slumping back against the cushions. "Are you fucking kidding me? How can nothing bother you, at least a little bit?!"

"I dunno man, and I honestly don't give a shit either," Nursey shrugs, and boy would Dex just love to kiss that shit-eating grin off his face. Wait, now there's an idea!

"What if I kissed you?" Dex questions, resisting the urge to face palm the second the words leave his mouth. He's such an idiot—just because it's _an_ idea doesn't mean it's a _good_ one.

"Hey man, if you want to, be my guest," Nursey replies nonchalantly. His tone is still even and he appears to be unperturbed, save for the slight widening of his eyes.

 _Bingo_ , Dex thinks. He's found it: the one thing that will make Derek Nurse lose his pervasive chill.

So against his better judgment, Dex leans over and presses his lips to Nursey's. Nursey kisses back, but it's slow, lazy and he still seems completely unfazed by the current turn of events, and that's not good enough for Dex. Nursey appears to still be totally in control, still wholly too chill, so Dex has to up the ante.

Dex quickly nips at Nursey's lower lip, and Nursey gasps in surprise. Dex uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into Nursey's mouth. Nursey makes a startled noise; it's not a moan, but it's—it's definitely a whimper, and Dex would be satisfied with that if he wasn't suddenly getting caught up in his own desire, in the need to explore more of Nursey's mouth, to find more of Nursey's body to run his hands over.

It's only when Dex starts to climb onto Nursey's lap that he finally starts to come to his senses and realizes what it is he's doing. He hastily breaks away from Nursey, sending himself toppling backward onto the floor.

 _bahoreal/tumblr/com/post/142367357466/nursey-makes-a-startled-noise-its-not-a-moan_

"Uhh," Nursey utters as Dex scrambles to his feet. There's a blush high on the other boy's cheeks, and a shocked, nearly vacant expression on his face.

Dex immediately bolts from the room because, _shit_ , he just kissed his crush and the only response he had was to say "uhh" while staring blankly. That— _fuck_ , that likely wasn't a good thing at all.

Dex enters the kitchen after a few long strides, finding Bitty there, laying out the ingredients to make a—it looks like a maple-crusted apple pie. Dex is thankful that Bitty hasn't started yet because a) he needs to get out of the Haus, and b) he needs Bitty to come with him so he can talk about what the fuck he just did.

 _"I just kissed Nursey,"_ Dex says in a hoarse, panicked whisper. His chest is tight, and he's out of breath, which that has nothing to do with the short jog from the living room to the kitchen.

"You—you what?" Bitty asks, gaping at him, his brown eyes the size of saucers.

"I just—" Dex starts again before Bitty cuts him off.

"You don't have to repeat it, I just—I needed a second to process it," Bitty says, his words slow and measured as he puts down the empty bowl he's holding. It clatters on the counter with a metallic clink, one that's almost deafening in the relative silence of the Haus.

"God Bitty, I'm so _stupid_ ," Dex laments through gritted teeth. Dex checks over his shoulder, and Nursey is still sitting on the couch. He hasn't moved an inch since Dex left the room.

"Calm down sweetheart," Bitty says putting a hand on his arm. "Let's go get some froyo and we can talk, alright?"

Dex nods minutely, letting Bitty guide him towards the front door and out into the warm spring air.

It was a kind of tradition for them, going for froyo when they needed to talk, and it started back at the beginning of Dex's sophomore year.

* * *

"H-hey Bitty," Dex mumbles, wringing his hands as he shuffles into the kitchen of the Haus. His heart is beating out of his chest; he's never actually done this before, and terrified doesn't even _begin_ to describe how he's feeling right now.

"Oh Dex!" Bitty says, jumping slightly, like he's surprised that Dex is there; though to be fair, Bitty tends to jump at almost everything. "I wasn't expectin' uh—I thought you had class."

"I—I do but I just—I needed to talk to you—when I knew you'd be here alone and—this was the only time," Dex murmurs. He's so nervous he's at the point that he has to remind himself to breathe.

"Oh my," Bitty mutters to himself. "Let me get you a slice of pie sweetheart, and then we can talk, okay?"

Dex nods robotically, letting Bitty push him into a chair at the table. There's a plate shoved in front of him, and Dex, by rote, begins to eat the pie while Bitty sits down at the table across from him, concern writ all over his face.

He watches until Dex has finished the pie, waiting until then to speak up. "Now sweetheart, tell me, what's goin' on?"

Dex's stomach starts to churn as he thinks over the words he has to say, and he's beginning to regret actually having eaten the slice of blueberry pie.

"There's uh—well, something I want to tell you but I—I've never told anyone this before and I don't—I don't know if I'll be able to say it but I'll—I'll try," Dex says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sweetheart, just take all the time you need," Bitty says, smiling sympathetically as he leans in slightly. "Just know there ain't gonna be any judgment here, not matter what it is you have to say."

"I uh—"

Dex pauses and takes a deep, shuddery breath. He looks down at his hands, folded in his lap. If he looks Bitty in the eye, he doesn't think he'll get this out.

"I'm gay," he says finally, after a long few minutes.

"Thank you for trusting me with this moment," Bitty says, smiling, and Dex feels like a huge weight falls off his shoulders in that moment.

* * *

From that moment on, Bitty became Dex's go-to confidant. They were, as Bitty coined it, "bitch buddies," though bitching was only a small part of what they did. More than anything, they just talked about stuff. From Dex's super-secret crush on Nursey, to Bitty's relationship with Jack, and everything in between (like, for example, they talked at length one day about the super hot guy on the swim team who looked like Chris Evans).

That's why now, when Dex is facing his biggest gay crisis—like ever—he's talking to Bitty, asking for—no, _begging_ for advice.

"Why?" Bitty asks before they've even sat down with their cups of froyo. Bitty's has a bunch of chocolate on top with a few peaches tossed in for color, while Dex simply has strawberries and crumbled Oreos on his.

"I don't know," Dex mumbles as he slinks into a chair. He proceeds to drag his spoon back and forth through the frozen yogurt in his cup, rather than eat any of it.

Bitty responds by raising an eyebrow at him and okay, fine, he's lying; he knows exactly why he did it.

"I just wanted to make him lose his chill," Dex says quietly, blowing out a slow breath.

"That—that don't seem like it was a very smart thing to do," Bitty sighs before shoving a spoonful of super chocolaty froyo in his mouth (seriously, he put like, M&M's, mini chocolate chips, Oreos, hot fudge, _and_ chocolate syrup on top).

"Of course, you think I don't know that?" Dex grumbles. His froyo is likely going to stay untouched, because he just doesn't have the appetite for it right now. "I just—I got carried away I guess. It's—if I had just kissed him, I'd be fine but I—I kept pushing and wanting more, and that's how I ended up shoving my tongue down his throat as I was climbing onto his lap. I just lost control and went too far, not like that's really a surprise."

"You were on his lap?" Bitty inquires incredulously, his brow knotting up in intense concentration, though whether that's on Dex's predicament, or his froyo, Dex has no idea.

"Well it was only for a second," Dex frowns as he recalls the scene in his mind. "But then I—I realized what I was doing and like, jerked away and fell onto the floor."

Bitty glances up suddenly. "Wait, you fell, or you were pushed?"

"I—" Dex pauses. Did he fall, or did Nursey push him? Dex—he can't actually remember; he was a little too busy freaking out over that fact that he was just kissing Nursey to pay attention to a detail like that. "I'm not sure."

There's growing concern on Bitty's face with each passing second. "Well—what did he say after?"

"Just 'uhh', like he's not a fucking English major," Dex answers, frowning.

"I—well, I don't know much about the situation cause you know I wasn't there to see it but—if I'm bein' honest, it ain't lookin' too good from where I'm sittin'," Bitty grimaces before taking another bite of froyo.

"I know that," Dex groans. "That's why I need your help!"

Bitty shakes his head. "I ain't got the slightest clue of what to do sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"So…I guess that means I have to quit the team, drop out of college, and become a hermit so I never have to face Nursey again," Dex sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

"Oh don't be silly," Bitty giggles, which is annoying, because Dex really wasn't joking. "I'm sure y'all will work it out."

"I'll finally have to grow my hair out, but at least no will be there to see it," Dex continues, laughing hysterically.

"Oh hush and stop bein' so dramatic," Bitty replies, rolling his eyes. "You're bein' worse than my cousin Miranda, and that's sayin' somethin'!"

Dex shuts up, since it appears he's not getting any more sympathy from Bitty, but he has no intention of actually being any less dramatic about the situation.

 _bahoreal/tumblr/com/post/142367569356/from-the-writingart-collab-i-did-with-benjji2795_

* * *

Since Bitty had given him exactly zero pieces of advice on how to deal with the situation, Dex decides to handle it by—well, by not dealing with it. The only time he _has_ to see Nursey is at practice, and he can deal with that by keeping any conversations they have to have strictly about hockey. Outside of practice, Dex knows Nursey's schedule like the back of his hand, and can therefore skillfully avoid him.

And he does for nearly a week, and it also turns out to be one of the most stressful weeks in recent memory for Dex. He doesn't know when Nursey became a constant, calming presence in his every day, but he did. A week without that annoying hipster boy constantly hanging around him is like spending a week without one of his limbs and sets Dex on edge; he didn't realize just how much Nursey's chill attitude affected him.

But Nursey never makes any kind of effort to seek him out. He lets Dex avoid him without ever sending a single text or showing up at Dex's room. _So_ , Dex thinks one night while he's half-asleep in his CS textbook, _it's not like Nursey wants anything to do with him now_.

And the worst part is, Dex doesn't have anyone to blame for this but himself. There was nothing that said he had to make Nursey lose his chill. He could have let it go, but he was a stubborn dumbass (not that that's news) that not only had to find a way to make Nursey lose his chill, but actually do it as well.

He certainly succeeded, because if practices and one other event that had taken place with Nursey during the week were any indication, Nursey has not been the least bit chill since Dex kissed him. Every time they make eye contact in practice, Nursey blushes, and every time their bodies touch when they have to skate past each other, he can see Nursey shiver as he retreats away from the contact.

They had ended up at the Haus at the same time, though Dex had tried his hardest to get out of it. Ransom and Holster had told him that under no circumstances was he to skip out; it was "mandatory team bonding." But the entire hockey team is there, so all Dex has to do is to place himself on the opposite side of the living room from Nursey, and he'll be set to continue ignoring the other boy.

Except then he has to exit the living room to use the bathroom, and Nursey and a few others block the way. There's just enough space in between Nursey and Wicks for Dex to slip through. He takes a deep breath and then approaches, mumbling "excuse me" as he pushes through.

Just as Dex is squeezing past, Wicks steps backward and pushes him and Nursey together so their bodies are flush. Dex holds back a sigh (because of course this would happen), and Nursey inhales sharply, turning bright red. Dex pushes back on Wicks, who mutters an apology and lets Dex through. Dex pretends that he didn't notice Nursey's reaction, as he's too concerned with the situation developing in his pants.

When he comes back out, Nursey is gone.

But none of that necessarily means anything that Dex would want it to mean. If it did, then why would Nursey let Dex get away with avoiding him? He doesn't _need_ Nursey to be his friend, to hang around him. Really, he's totally fine.

* * *

They lose their first hockey game after The Incident rather spectacularly, to the tune of a 5-2 final score. He and Nursey were a complete and utter disaster on the ice. They ended up getting benched for the rest of the game halfway through the second period, but not before they were mostly responsible for giving up three goals.

Neither of them says a word to each other as they're forced to sit next to each other and stew on the bench.

The team holds a kegster at the Haus after the game, because there's always one, whether they win or lose. Dex goes, even though he knows that Nursey is going as well, because good God does he need some alcohol. He wants to drown out his emotions, because feels like shit because he played so badly, and also because he knows this means that things between him and Nursey are worse than he could've imagined.

Around his third beer, Bitty suddenly appears at his side. He peers up at Dex, examining him with his warm brown eyes as he puts a hand on Dex's arm.

"Dex, sweetheart, don't you think you should be slowin' down a little?" Bitty questions.

Normally, Dex would be appreciative of Bitty's concern, but right now, he wants none of it.

"I'm fine," Dex quips tersely, taking another large gulp of the golden liquid in his cup. He doesn't want concern; he wants to be left alone to get totally shit-faced.

"You've been drinkin' a lot already," Bitty continues, having either missed or ignored the warning in Dex's voice. "You sure you're goin' to be able to handle it?"

"I've got it under control Bitty," Dex snaps harshly in irritation.

Bitty looks affronted, and then almost angry. "Look Dex, I understand that you're upset about the game and everythin' goin' on with Nursey," Bitty says sternly. "But I ain't sure that this is the way to be dealin' with it! You might do somethin' you'll regret."

"Leave me alone and let me deal with it how I want to," Dex retorts, pulling Bitty's hand off his arm.

"Fine," Bitty sighs resignedly. "That's your choice. It's no skin off my nose if you say somethin' to make things worse."

He walks away, leaving Dex alone to scowl at his nearly empty cup.

Nearly an hour and a half later, Dex belatedly realizes that listening to Bitty might have been a better idea than snapping at him and telling him to get lost, because now he's definitely shit-faced. He's lost count of how many beers, shots and cups of tub juice he's had, but he's going to put the number at simply "too many," because now all he wants to do is to find Nursey (like Bitty had essentially predicted he would) and do…something. He doesn't know yet.

He stumbles into the living room to look for the other boy, and he's startlingly easy to find.

Nursey is slumped up against a wall by himself, staring mournfully into a red Solo cup in his hand. Dex still has no idea what he's going to say or do, but he staggers over to him anyway.

"Having fun?" he slurs, leaning up against the wall next to Nursey.

Nursey's head jerks up abruptly. "Uh, what?" he says, blushing scarlet when he makes eye contact with him.

 _"Uh, what?"_ Dex garbles, doing a poor, drunk impression of Nursey. It takes him all of about a half second to start laughing at himself, doubling over and losing his balance, stumbling into Nursey.

"Are you drunk?" Nursey asks.

Dex shakes his head; drunk comes woefully short of describing just how sloshed he is. "Completely bitch-ass shit-faced," he corrects, giggling as Nursey holds him up.

"Jesus Poindexter," Nursey grunts, staggering back a step as he tries to hold up Dex's weight. "I know tonight's game was rough but—"

"Nah, I wouldn't do this if it was only about the game," Dex snorts while Nursey, with considerable effort, gets him upright again. He positions them so that Dex's back is against the wall, and he's standing directly in front of Dex, keeping a respectable distance between their bodies.

"Right, you avoid me for a week, but now that you're drunk, you want to talk about it," Nursey sighs, shaking his head. "Can't even think about kissing me while you're sober, right?"

"Can't stop thinking about it," Dex mumbles, lifting his head so that he's gazing right into Nursey's bright green eyes. "Drunk or sober."

"Thinking about how to give me the 'I'm not into guys' speech then, hmm?" Nursey replies bitterly. "You can just save it."

Dex holds Nursey's eye for a second, long enough to realize that he's not joking, before he bursts into uncontrollable, hysterical laughter. "I—wow, you actually think—oh my _God_."

Dex pauses, sucking in a deep breath, intending to explain himself to Nursey, but he starts giggling again, so hard that he can't splutter out even a few words. Nursey looks on, clearly unimpressed.

"What's so funny?" Nursey asks flatly, frowning deeply.

Dex gasps for air as he was guffawing too hard to breathe properly. "I—oh God, it's just—I couldn't give that speech—like ever. If anything, I'd have to do like, the opposite!"

Nursey blinks as he gawks at Dex blankly. "What?"

"Y'know, for an English major, you're like super-not-good-with-words like, 99% of the time," Dex teases, taking an unsteady step forward toward Nursey.

"Wait, are you trying to say that you're gay?" Nursey questions, his eyes going wider in realization.

"There we go, now he's got it," Dex grins, placing a hand on Nursey's shoulder.

"Wait—s-so if you're gay then—why did you kiss me then avoid me? I thought you were freaked out that you kissed me when you weren't gay but that's obviously not the case," Nursey asks. He looks slightly confused, but there's also a trace of that constant cockiness that's starting to slide back into place.

Dex shrugs, glancing down at their feet. "'Cause I wasn't sure what to do. I kissed you when you don't feel the same way about me."

"I thought you knew you liked me and were making fun of me," Nursey replies, chuckling softly.

"I would never be that mean to you…" Dex answers, trailing off as his alcohol-slowed brain catches up with the rest of what Nursey said. "Wait, what?!" he blurts out in shock.

"There we go, now he's got it," Nursey repeats jokingly. He puts his hands on Dex's cheeks and leans in, kissing Dex softly.

When Nursey breaks the kiss, he raises an eyebrow, his full smirk finally back in place on his face, like it should be. "But dude, I've had a crush on you since like, second semester last year. How did you not know?"

Dex averts his eyes, as he can't lower his head with Nursey's hands still on his face. "I guess I was too busy trying to deal with my own crush," Dex mutters.

Nursey barks out a laugh. "So we're both just super oblivious?"

"I guess," Dex shrugs.

They stand off to the side, close to the wall, gazing out at the kegster for a few minutes. Dex can't stop grinning, and Nursey looks as chill as ever, until he turns back to Dex.

"You should probably get back to your dorm, since you can barely stand upright," Nursey says, a corner of his mouth turning down in concern.

Dex realizes that he's swaying in place, and so swallows his protest. "You're coming with me, right?" he asks instead.

"'Course I am," Nursey smiles, shaking his head as he throws an arm around Dex's shoulders. As they walk out, Dex spots Bitty giving him a thumbs up from across the room, where he's standing with Jack, the taller man's arm around his waist.

When Dex wakes up the next morning, he doesn't remember much of the night, but he knows he's curled up around Nursey right now. The other boy is gently playing with his hair, smiling down softly at him, and Dex feels a strange, swooping sensation in his gut. He doesn't remember what happened last night, but he gets the feeling that he doesn't need to remember. This is evidence enough of what took place.

Dex grins, nuzzling his head into Nursey's shoulder. Normally, having to be right was something Dex saw as more a curse than a blessing, but for once, he's glad that he had to be right. Feeling like he had to make Nursey lose his chill was probably the best thing that could've happened.

* * *

 _I also need to give creds to mscomrade/tumblr/com, because he was the one who came up with the concept of "Bitch Buddies" :)_

 _Also, now that I'm old enough to drink, the amount Dex had in this fic probably would've given him alcohol poisoning...or at the very least, he'd be puking in a toilet somewhere..._


	11. Sweet Dreams

**Summary:** _When Dex has a nightmare, Nursey is there to comfort him._

* * *

 **Notes:**

Prompt (from bahoreal/tumblr/com):  
 _Nurseydex where they get the attic dibs and end up both sleeping on the bottom bunk. Did one of them have a nightmare? Was dex too lazy to fix the broken slat on the top bunk? Your choice omg_

* * *

Derek gets woken up by a noise that sounds like a whimper. At first, he thinks nothing of it and closes his eyes to fall back asleep. The attic made all kinds of strange noises, and he still was just trying to get used to them all.

"No, don't…" Dex groans softly from the bunk below Derek, making him open his eyes again.

He tosses his blankets off and crawls over to the edge of his bed, leaning over the side to peer down at Dex. "Don't what?" he asks.

Dex's eyes are still squeezed shut, his face contorted into an expression similar to the ones he gets when he's taken a particularly hard check, like he's in some kind of pain. His blankets are a tangled mess around him, likely from tossing and turning.

"Nursey, stop!" Dex says more forcefully, though his words are slurred like he's half-asleep.

"I'm not doing anything," Derek protests. He's practically half-asleep himself, so he's having a hard time figuring out what Dex is upset with him for.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Derek carefully climbs down from the top bunk, stepping over and kneeling down at the side of Dex's bed. Now that he's closer, he can see the sweat covering his face, shining in the pale moonlight.

"Don't go…please," Dex murmurs, reaching his hand out and grasping at nothing but empty air.

As Derek becomes more awake, it finally occurs to him that Dex might be dreaming and judging by his actions and words, it seems like it's probably an intense nightmare.

Seeing how distressed it's making Dex, Derek reaches out and grabs Dex's shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Dex, wake up."

Dex's eyes fly open, and flails, sitting up rapidly. He blinks in the darkness, looking around the attic. His eyes fall on Derek, and he covers his face.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Derek asks.

Dex slumps over, taking short, gasping breaths. "What?" he replies shakily. "Oh yeah, I'm—I'm fine."

They've been partners for two years, and Derek has gotten pretty good at reading Dex. He's very sure that at this moment, Dex is not fine.

"Dex—"

"Really Nursey, I'm okay," Dex interrupts, his voice breaking halfway through (if ever there was a sign Dex wasn't okay…). "You can go back to sleep."

Dex's hands are still covering his face, and Derek thinks he can hear a few sniffles escaping from behind them, and he can also see that Dex's shoulders are shaking.

Derek gently puts a hand on Dex's arm and tugs Dex toward him. Dex willingly goes, letting Derek wrap his arms around him.

"I'm right here," Derek whispers as Dex lets out a choked sob. "Don't worry, I'm going to stay right here."

Derek rocks back and forth gently, holding Dex as he cries into his shoulder. He doesn't know how long they stay like that, but eventually Dex lifts his head up.

"I'm sorry," Dex says, flushing red.

Derek knows that Dex hates appearing vulnerable and is probably very embarrassed about crying on him, so he tries to smile at Dex reassuringly.

"It's totally cool."

"Okay," Dex nods, swiping at his cheeks. "So uh, you can—you can go back to your bunk now," he adds slowly, like he's uncertain about wanting Derek to go.

"Do you really want me to?" Derek questions.

Dex shrugs.

"I don't have to. If it would make you feel better," Derek continues.

"You don't—"

Dex pauses for a long second, seemingly reconsidering how he wants to answer Derek.

"Yeah. Would you?"

Derek nods and climbs over Dex into the bed. He straightens out the blankets, untangling them from around Dex and laying it over both their legs. He opens his arms, inviting Dex into them.

Dex doesn't hesitate, snaking his arms around Derek's middle, cuddling into him.

Derek holds onto Dex tightly and little by little, the muscles in Dex's body start to unclench, and he relaxes into Derek.

"Thanks," Dex says, yawning. His warm breath hits Derek's neck and makes him shiver slightly.

"You're welcome," Derek mumbles, tilting his head down, placing a gentle kiss into Dex's short red hair. Derek freezes immediately when he realizes what he's done.

Dex puts both hands on his chest and pushes him back. Derek's heart sinks. Dex clearly wasn't comfortable with that. He was sleepy and drunk on having Dex so near to him and didn't think and went too far. Now Dex was going to—

That thought stops in its tracks as a pair of lips meet his own, pressing into them softly but insistently. It takes Derek a few seconds to realize that _Dex is kissing him!_

Derek kisses back, but it's something he does only on instinct, as his mind is running to catch up to what is happening.

"Uhhh," Derek utters when Dex breaks the kiss, unable to string a coherent group of words together.

"I figured that since you—never mind. I'm sorry," Dex mumbles, trying to roll away from him.

Derek tightens his arms around Dex, pulling him back in.

"You were—I didn't—you really feel that way about me?" Derek asks, looking into those amber eyes that he knows he could get lost in.

"Of course I do. I was having a nightmare about you—leaving and—" Dex says.

"Shh," Derek shushes when Dex's face falls. "It's okay, I'm not leaving."

"Good," Dex grins, before he yawns again. "I'm—wow, I'm really tired. Can we talk about this more in the morning?"

"Yeah Dex, sure," Derek says. He smiles, leaning over and pecking Dex's lips. "G'night Dex. Sweet dreams."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Dex replies, snuggling his head into the crook of Derek's neck. "Night Nursey."

They both sleep better the rest of that night than any other night they'd spent in the attic.


	12. Puppy Love

**Summary:** He was driving home in the middle of an intense rainstorm ( _when is he not driving home in the rain?_ Dex thinks. _It's_ Seattle. _It's always raining_ ), when a flash of red catches his eye about two hundred feet in front of him. Slowing down, Dex tries to get a better look at the red object and–oh _God_ , that's a puppy.

* * *

 **Notes:**

This was a tumblr one sentence prompt; originally it was _"Don't give me that look; you're the one that bought it."_ , which I changed to _"Don't give me that look; you're the one that brought him home."_

* * *

Dex almost almost didn't see it.

He was driving home in the middle of an intense rainstorm ( _when is he not driving home in the rain?_ Dex thinks. _It's_ Seattle. _It's always raining_ ), when a flash of red catches his eye about two hundred feet in front of him. Slowing down, Dex tries to get a better look at the red object and–oh _God_ , that's a puppy.

Dex hits the brakes, pulling off onto the side of the road a few yards ahead of where the puppy is slowly hobbling down the sidewalk. Quickly, he brushes a stack of paper off the front seat–he'll deal with the mess later–and then steps out into the rain.

The puppy was probably only a few months old. Its fur was a red color strikingly similar to the color of Dex's hair. At least, that's what it looks like to Dex; the poor little thing's fur is matted with dirt.

Dex walks over to the puppy slowly, holding out his hand for the puppy to sniff. "Hey there–"

The puppy looks up at the sound of his voice and snarls, backing away a few steps from Dex, and Dex mirrors it, wondering if helping it is worth losing a finger. Interestingly, the puppy doesn't run away from him. Instead it–actually, it looks to be a he–stands his ground, baring his teeth and growling lowly.

Dex stares into his eyes, wondering why this puppy doesn't want his help. He's clearly hurt–there a few cuts visible through his fur, and he looks thin, shivering slightly with the chill of the rain. He needs help, and yet he doesn't seem to want it…

And then it hits Dex. That's the kind of shit he tries to pull all the time. "I can take care of myself," he always says. This puppy is clearly trying to say, _I know I'm hurt, but I'm fine; I don't need your help._

Dex isn't going to let him do that. He'll die otherwise.

"You idiot," Dex mutters, probably because that's exactly what Nursey would say to him in this situation.

The puppy stops growling, cocking his head to the side in curiosity instead.

"You idiot," Dex repeats, taking a small step forward. "You're not fine."

The puppy lowers his head and whimpers.

Dex nods his head in agreement. "Yeah, exactly. C'mon, get over here. I'm gonna help you, whether you think you need my help or not."

He shakes himself, gingerly taking a few steps toward Dex.

"That's right, c'mon," Dex encourages.

When the puppy is in range to be picked up, Dex quickly does so, before the puppy can possibly change his mind. Not that he probably needed to worry about that–the puppy immediately nuzzles into his neck.

It's just as Dex pulls into the Petsmart parking lot that he realizes–Nursey probably isn't going to like this very much.

* * *

"Nursey?" Dex calls cautiously as he walks into the house. His clothes are still dripping wet, and he holds the shivering puppy close to his chest, along with the bag of supplies he got at the pet store. He's not entirely sure how he's going to explain this.

Nursey slides around the corner, his feet nearly coming out from underneath him because he's wearing socks on their hardwood floors (which Dex has repeatedly told him not to do).

"Thank God you're okay!" Nursey exclaims, squeezing Dex tightly. "I thought something bad had happened to you!"

"I was just a little late. There's no reason to–"

" _A little late?_ Dex, you were an hour and a half late!" Nursey says sternly.

"Oh. Well. I'm _really_ sorry but-uh–I might have um–we might have a puppy?" Dex replies sheepishly.

Nursey blinks, staring at Dex blankly. "What?"

"Yeah, uh," Dex pauses, opening his coat to show Nursey. He'd put the puppy in there to try and keep him warm. "I found him on the side of the road on my way home."

Nursey shakes his head. "Dex. Oh Dex, we really can't keep him."

"We don't have to keep him!" Dex argues. "He just needs someone to nurse him back to health."

"The shelter can do that," Nursey says dismissively.

Dex's eyes go wide. "We can't take him to a shelter! What if no one wants him and they have to put him down? We– _I'm_ not going to let that happen to him!"

"Dex–"

"I couldn't leave him there," Dex interrupts. "When I tried to help him, he didn't want to let me at first. He looked at me like he could take care of himself and–fuck, he acted just like I would! And look at his fur, it's the same color as my hair! He's _me_! This is our dog! I was _supposed_ to find him! No one else was going to be able to help him except for me!"

Nursey looks at the dog, and then up at him. They lock eyes, and Nursey's gaze softens, and Dex knows he's won.

"Fine. I'm not saying we can keep him, but he can say until he's better. That's _it_."

"Did you hear that?" Dex asks the puppy, cooing at him the same way he might talk to a baby. "Nursey is gonna let you stay. Isn't that great?"

Nursey's gaze is impossibly fond when Dex looks up, and he knows there's a good chance that Nursey probably isn't going to make him give the puppy away.

"Here, I'll take him," Nursey says softly. "You need to go get changed so you're not shivering and dripping all over the foyer."

The puppy snarls again when Dex tries to hand him over to Nursey. Dex looks up sheepishly at Nursey while the puppy glares and growls at him. "I guess he's coming with me?"

"Okay," Nursey answers, shaking his head. "You know, you might be onto something with him being you. I seem to remember you didn't like me at first sight either."

"Well, then, if he _is_ anything like me, he'll learn to tolerate you eventually," Dex chuckles, quickly pecking Nursey on the cheek.

Nursey rolls his eyes, even though he's smiling. " _Go_. Get changed."

* * *

In retrospect, naming the puppy Dexter was probably a terrible idea if they were going to have to give him away (which Nursey is still insisting they're going to do), because that ties him to Dex even further, and Dex is so attached he couldn't bear to let go of him.

Nursey, on the other hand, might be a little too eager to get Dexter into someone else's home, probably because he and Dexter aren't getting along. Like at all. And Nursey probably isn't pleased about having to share Dex's attention with him.

They would literally and figuratively bark at each other, going back and forth, bickering ceaselessly, and Dex is wondering if this is really what he and Nursey used to be like. If so, he should, like send an apology card to the Samwell guys, because this is getting really fucking annoying.

Dex leaves the house for an hour to get groceries. He doesn't really like leaving Nursey alone with Dexter if he doesn't have to, given how much they dislike each other, but Nursey was currently at his desk, scribbling furiously, and Dex knows better than to ask him to come along and interrupt him when he's on a roll.

When Dex walks into the house, what little of the living room he can see of the living room from the foyer looks like a disaster area.

Dex walks out to find two out of the three couch cushions shredded, the foam that was once inside them strewn all over the room.

"Nursey! Get out here!" Dex yells. He's irritated; how could Nursey have not heard Dexter making this mess?

Nursey comes out into the living room, surveying the mess, while Dex blinks at him, unimpressed.

"Don't give me that look," Nursey says. "You're the one that brought him home."

"He's _our_ dog," Dex responds sharply. "When he's in this house, he's as much your responsibility as he is mine. And that includes paying attention to him when I'm not home!"

Nursey laughs. "You think it would've made a difference if I had noticed this? He would've just looked at me and kept doing it."

"No he wouldn't–"

"I think you underestimate just how much he doesn't like me."

"Okay, that's it," Dex says, throwing up his hands. "We are all going to go into the bedroom and we are going to stay there until you two figure out how to deal with each other."

"Deeeeexxxxxx," Nursey whines as Dexter barks.

"I'm serious. _March. Now_ ," Dex says, pointing toward the bedroom.

Both Dexter and Nursey shuffle that way. Dex walks in after them, pulling the door closed.

"Now. Dexter," Dex says, kneeling in front of the dog. "I know you're just generally distrusting of people, but I promise you that Nursey is a good guy."

Dexter barks in protest.

"Hush," Dex quips. "He'd be perfectly happy petting you and being nice to you if you would stop nipping at him."

"And Nursey. You have to be nice to Dexter, no matter how mean he's being to you. I've told you that he's just like me, so just treat him the way you would treat me when I'm being hostile–"

" _Dex_ , that's what I have been doing."

"You're reacting the way you used to, before we started dating. You gotta do what you do now."

Nursey huffs. "Fine."

"Okay," Dex smiles. "Now give him a little scratch behind his ears."

Nursey reaches out to pet Dexter, and Dexter snaps his jaw.

"Dexter," Dex says sternly. "Do you want a treat or not?"

Dexter whimpers.

"Then let him pet you."

Dexter lets out a huff of air, then lowers his head for Nursey to pet. Nursey tentatively reaches out and scratches behind his ears. There's a moment where both tense up, waiting for the other to snap at them. But then, the more insistently Nursey pets Dexter, the more Dexter relaxes, and the more Nursey relaxes too.

"I think you guys are going to get along just fine now," Dex says, nodding his head in satisfaction.

And they do–mostly. Hey, he and Nursey still snap at each other sometimes too. It wasn't going to be perfect. But like him and Nursey, they'll figure it out and be just fine.


	13. The Agony of Defeat

**Summary:** Out of the face-off, the puck comes right to Dex, and rather than reacting instinctively, he starts thinking.

 _All I have to do is hold onto the puck or get it to someone else. If I can do that, we'll go to overtime and we can win the game then. Just don't fuck it up!_

Thinking makes Dex indecisive; he can't decide whether to hold onto the puck or pass it. And so he does the worst thing imaginable; he does neither. Trying to do something, Dex does something with his stick that's in between holding the puck and passing it, and it sends the puck skittering right onto the tape of a Michigan player a few feet from Samwell's goal.

* * *

 **Notes:**

One sentence prompts #6: _Try not to look so sad; it'll all seem better in the morning._

As with the last one of these I did, I modified it. These one sentence prompts are a good way to get me started, but rarely do they ever seem to work in my writing without seeming stilted or awkward.

So instead of the original sentence, instead I have: _"Please try to not be so upset and don't beat yourself up about it; it won't seem quite so bad in the morning."_ I feel that worked much better.

Also, these one sentence prompts are turning into longer fics than I meant for them to be? So like, they're going to take more time to finish than I thought whoops. I'll get them all done at some point lol

Anyway, enough of my blabbing, onto the fic!

* * *

After Jack graduated, nobody thought much of Samwell's hockey team anymore. Dex knows this because, against his better judgment, he read a number of articles before the start of his sophomore season.

" _Jack Zimmermann is a special player,"_ one pundit wrote. _"And as tends to happen with players with incredible talent, the team leaned heavily on him and his production. Looking up and down the team's roster, I don't see a single player—or even a group of players—that are capable of replacing his point total. I question if they're even capable of being a playoff team without Zimmermann."_

It made Dex's blood boil to read statements like that. Jack was amazing, sure, no one disputes that. But the reason they made it to the finals was because they had gelled as a team. Everyone did their job and made the plays when they needed to. No one player was more important than any other.

And even with Jack gone, the core of that team was still there: Bitty, Chowder, Ransom and Holster, Nursey, and himself. And they had great young talent joining the team in Tango and Whiskey.

But even so, that first year without Jack was a struggle. They had a hard time molding together as a unit, and so they barely squeaked into the playoffs, and lost in the second round. Dex was partly satisfied that they had at least made it back, when most analysts didn't think they would.

Chowder had gotten even better. He was the best goalie in D-I that no one talked about. Bitty was, without question, the fastest skater that Dex had ever seen. Ransom and Holster may have graduated, but he and Nursey are almost as good as they had been. And Whiskey and Tango clicked very well on the ice, forming a dynamic duo; sure, they weren't quite at the level Jack and Bitty had been at, but they were pretty damn good.

Dex had liked their chances of proving everyone wrong this year, and when they did, he was—to put it simply—smug. But that wasn't enough for Dex. He wanted to win. Bitty deserved it, and the experts deserved to be wrong one more time.

See, they were going up against perennial hockey powerhouse the University of Michigan. Playing in one of the toughest conferences in all of Division I, Michigan had dominated, cruising through their schedule and easily winning the conference. In the playoffs, no one gave them a significant challenge, as they won all of their games by an average of three goals.

None of the college hockey reporters in the entire country thought Samwell had even the slightest chance of winning. And sure, Dex will admit that the numbers were by and large stacked in Michigan's favor. But Dex believes in his team.

* * *

The roll of people who are coming to the game is long. Jack is going to come, as are Bad Bob and Alicia. Ransom and Holster are going to be in the stands, and they promise to cheer louder than anyone else. Lardo and Shitty are coming too, of course. Bitty's parents are driving all the way up from Georgia to attend. And even Dex's parents have taken two days off of work they can ill-afford to come.

Missing are Nursey's parents. Dex has yet to see a hint of the Nurse's at any event, which infuriates him. It's not even that Nursey's parents have an excuse like his do. They're rich, surely they could spare an afternoon to come watch their son play for the NCAA championship! Nursey only shrugged. "I'm used to it by now," he said, which only made Dex more indignant. Nursey kisses his cheek. "I'm glad you're angry on my behalf, but I really don't care. Instead of talking about this, let's just take a nap before we have to head to the arena."

So they don't talk about it, but Dex holds Nursey a little tighter as they curl up on the bed.

* * *

Dex anxiously chews on his lip as he tapes up his stick in the locker room. The last time they were here, playing in a game this big, he was just a freshman. Murray and Hall had already told both him and Nursey that they likely wouldn't see the ice much during the game. Dex wasn't nervous then because it wasn't likely he'd have much of an impact on the game.

Now, he's one of the most important players on the team. He's under enormous pressure, because he and Nursey have to some how find a way to hold off the most proficient and highest scoring offense in college hockey. And there's the added pressure of who's going to be there; he has to make sure that the vacation time his parents took doesn't go to waste.

"Don't worry," Nursey says, slapping him on the shoulder as he walks past in only his compression shorts (which Dex does _not_ need from him right now, the fucker). "We're going to give a performance worthy of Ransom and Holster's best."

"Sure," Dex mumbles in reply.

* * *

He really hopes they will.

They don't exactly play well. At this point, with twenty seconds left in the third period, Michigan has managed to get forty-one shots on goal. Michigan is faster than any team they've played all year, and they're both struggling to keep up—and that's putting it mildly.

But Chowder is proving why he's the best damn goalie in college hockey. Despite having so many shots flying at him all game, he's only missed blocking one—and he almost got that one too.

He and Nursey, despite their defensive struggles, just had a sparkling moment. Dex stole the puck from Michigan's forward, who was simply trying to protect it, and with an assist from Nursey, scored a goal.

It was due to that goal that the game was tied, one goal apiece. 19.8 seconds left entering the face-off following Dex's goal. Chowder is clearly tired, and they have to find a way to at least protect the puck and take the game to overtime so Chowder can rest for a few minutes.

Out of the face-off, the puck comes right to Dex, and rather than reacting instinctively, he starts thinking.

 _All I have to do is hold onto the puck or get it to someone else. If I can do that, we'll go to overtime and we can win the game then. Just don't fuck it up!_

Thinking makes Dex indecisive; he can't decide whether to hold onto the puck or pass it. And so he does the worst thing imaginable; he does neither. Trying to do something, Dex does something with his stick that's in between holding the puck and passing it, and it sends the puck skittering right onto the tape of a Michigan player a few feet from Samwell's goal.

It's over in a matter of seconds. Chowder is caught off-guard, as he apparently had relaxed when he saw that Dex had the puck. All his teammates react, trying to come to his aid, but they're all a fraction of a second late. A flick of the wrist sends the puck flying into the back of the net with 11.4 seconds left, giving Michigan a 2-1 lead.

Dex stares down at the ice where the puck had been. He knows what's just happened, but he can't seem to process it. He knows what it means, but all he can do is stare at the ice in shock.

"Dex. Dex! DEX!" someone screams in his ear, dragging Dex out of his trance. He turns to find Bitty standing there.

"Dex. There's still time left. Get into position or get off the ice," he barks (the captaincy has really brought out Bitty's harsher side; certainly he yells more than he used to).

Dex moves into his place, still not really able to grasp what happened. He skates hard. He tries to do everything he can in the last 11.4 seconds, but it's too late. The clock runs down to zero with the score 2-1. They lost.

 _They lost because his turnover gave Michigan the winning goal. Fuck. It's his fault they lost._

When he finally registers this, he immediately dashes for the locker room, ahead of everyone else. He feels like he can't breathe as he throws himself onto the bench in front of his stall.

 _You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up…_

Dex takes his helmet off and throws it at the wall in frustration and anger. He let everyone down. Everyone is going to come in and look at him with disgust. They're going to hate him because he screwed up so badly. Dex squeezes his eyes shut; he can't handle seeing their faces.

"Dex."

It's Nursey's voice, and Dex doesn't want to look at him; doesn't want to see the anger or disappointment in his eyes.

"Dex. Babe. Look at me please," Nursey pleads.

Dex shakes his head. "It's my fault."

"No, it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Is he goin' to—"

"Not now Bitty," Nursey interrupts. "Let me handle this."

"Dex, the bus is going to be here soon. You have to get changed," he says, turning back to Dex.

"I can't face them."

"You don't have to. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?"

Dex finally forces his eyes open. Nursey doesn't look mad or disappointed, only worried. His stomach is still twisting into knots, but looking into Nursey's eyes makes him feel a bit better.

Nursey helps him get ready to get on the bus, and Dex doesn't take his eyes off him the whole time. Nursey responds with little shoulder squeezes and quick pecks on the lips. Normally Dex would protest to such open displays of affection in front of the team, but Dex doesn't even know if they're still there, and he won't stop looking at Nursey to find out. Plus, that affection is about the only thing keeping him from completely losing it right now.

All bets are off when they reach their hotel room though. The door clicks shut, and their bags (Nursey carried both) haven't even hit the floor when Dex shoves his face into Nursey's shoulder, crying into his shirt.

"Shhh, it's okay," Nursey says, hugging him tightly, a hand slowly running up and down his back.

"N-no it's not," Dex says, almost whimpering. "I'm the reason we lost. If I h-hadn't played, I—"

Nursey shakes his head. "Dex, if you hadn't played, we still would've lost."

"No—"

"Yeah. You're the one that scored the tying goal, remember?"

"But if I hadn't been in for that play—" Dex begins to protest before being cut off.

"You're one of the team's best players," Nursey says. "You think Hall and Murray would've wanted anyone else out there in that situation?"

"Now they will."

"I doubt it."

"Nursey—"

"Will. Please try to not be so upset and don't beat yourself up about it," Nursey pleads, hid hand still making slow circles on Dex's back. "It won't seem quite so bad in the morning."

"Morning will be worse," Dex replies. "I won't be able to avoid facing them."

"I saw everyone's faces in the locker room. No one was blaming you. They were all too busy beating themselves up for their own mistakes," Nursey says.

"And tomorrow they'll have forgotten their mistakes," Dex says. "But no one will forget mine."

"Yes they will."

"Don't fucking lie to me," Dex retorts. "Of course they won't."

Before Nursey can answer, there's a knock on the door. "We're not in the mood for visitors," he says instead.

"I just thought y'all might like some cookies," Bitty says on the other side of the door.

Nursey slowly shuffles over to the door, dragging Dex with him. He holds onto Dex with one arm while use the other to open the door about halfway, keeping Dex mostly shielded from view.

"Here you go," Bitty says, handing over a small container, smiling just as brightly as ever (even as his face shows evidence that he's been crying recently). "Is Dex doin' okay?"

"As well as he can be," Nursey shrugs, taking the cookies from Bitty.

"So…I'm thinkin' that means not very good," Bitty sighs. "I wanted to say this earlier, but you were handlin' it. Anyway, it's really not his fault. Hell, we wouldn't have even been in that position if it weren't for him."

"I know," Nursey nods. "But he just needs some time, okay?"

"Okay. Well, I guess I'll see y'all on the bus tomorrow mornin'. Good night."

Nursey closes the door and tosses the cookies somewhere on the floor. They're probably not going to eat any of them. "Let's just go to bed."

Dex hums in agreement. They're both already in sweats, so it's easy for them to climb into bed immediately. Dex curls into Nursey, hugging him around the waist tightly as Nursey turns off the lamp illuminating the room.

"If Bitty said that, he really means it," Nursey whispers into the darkness.

"I don't know," Dex mumbles.

Recognizing that there's nothing more he can say tonight that will be of any help, Nursey gives up and closes his eyes.

He doesn't know how long they are closed when Dex whispers. "Nursey?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. Y'know…for earlier…in the locker room…"

"Of course," Nursey replies, placing a kiss on the top of Dex's head.

"I love you," Dex says.

It's not the first time he's ever said it. But Dex doesn't say it very often, and so it's a special moment when he says those words.

Nursey smiles, his stomach erupting into butterflies. "I love you too," he responds.

It's not long after that they're both asleep, safe and loved in each other's arms. Dex dreams about Nursey and their future together, the agony of the loss fading in the world of sleep and dreams. He's not over it, but having Nursey there with him will always make that kind of thing 100 times easier.


	14. Giving Thanks for Pecan Pie

**Summary:** _"I—I wasn't laughing at you," Dex says, still panting as he tries to catch his breath. "But I mean, it_ is _pretty hilarious that you think my laugh is_ cute."

 _Or:_

 _Bitty enlists the Frogs to bake a pie, and Nursey and Dex don't really do any work._

* * *

 **A/N:**

I don't know how I feel about how this turned out. I'm not sure that it's great, but *shrugs* it's decent. I hope y'all like it :)

Also, in other unsurprising news, I'm terrible at titles and summaries.

* * *

There are some things Dex wishes he could forget he ever saw. Like the entire Star Wars prequel trilogy. Or the time he walked in on his parents. Or the sight of Derek Nurse kissing another guy.

* * *

 _He's looking for Nursey, since no one has seen him in a while. Given that Nursey was drunk, he could be getting himself into a lot of trouble. That's the reason that Nursey Patrol exists. Tonight, that duty falls to Dex, so he resigns himself to abandoning the party in favor of searching for his partner._

 _Nursey wasn't in any of the bedrooms upstairs, he's not in the basement. He's not in any of his usual hang out places, which makes Dex wonder what the hell he could be up to._

 _As Dex walks out onto the back porch, he sees two figures in a dimly lit. They're making out quite passionately. The one pressed up against the wall has his hands in the other's hair, and they have their hands up the other's shirt._

 _Dex takes a step closer, ready to tell them to bug off, as the back porch is off-limits to non-hockey team members. It's then that they come well enough into focus for Dex to realize that it's Nursey who's pressed up against the wall. And the other person is—it's the guy that Nursey introduced Dex to earlier, from his American Lit class (Larry? Liam?)._

 _Dex feels his stomach drop. Nursey—Nursey is into guys?_

" _Uh," Dex utters, completely in shock from the sight of Nursey kissing another boy._

 _They fly apart at the sound of Dex's voice. Nursey is panting, his clothes rumples, and the other boy is beet red, his hair a mess. Dex feels like he's on fire and sick to his stomach at the same time._

" _You need something?" Nursey quips, glaring at Dex in a decidedly unchill manner._

" _Uh n-no," Dex stutters. "I was just—I mean—I'm going to go now."_

 _Dex turns and sprints through the Haus, out the front door. He runs the whole way back to his dorm. He unlocks the door to his room and stumbles inside, his lungs on fire. He flops down on his bed, breathing heavily._

 _Once he catches his breath, Dex groans loudly._

" _I'm trying to sleep. Shut up," his roommate Pete mumbles, throwing a pillow at him._

 _Dex takes the pillow and shoves his face in it. He's way too drunk for this. Any other time, he could simply ignore the way his stomach twisted at seeing Nursey kissing that other guy. But right now he can't._

 _Dex remembers feeling exactly the way he does now back when his best friend Tommy got his first girlfriend. At first, he thought it was just that he was upset he'd have to share his friend. But that wasn't it. At all. He was jealous of Tommy's girlfriend because she got to—well shit._

 _He definitely has a crush on Nursey._

 _Fuck._

* * *

Dex had very skillfully taken to avoiding Nursey after he found out he had been sober enough to remember his realization the next morning.

Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid him today. Today was the last day before Thanksgiving break, and Bitty was hosting the entire hockey team for their own Thanksgiving dinner before some of them (Dex included) went home for the holiday. Bitty had texted all the frogs that he wanted them to come over to the Haus early.

When Dex exits his dorm, Nursey and Chowder are already there waiting for him. Nursey stands with his hands in his pockets, looking more attractive than is fair to Dex—and boy is Dex looking forward to a few days away from Samwell.

Dex awkwardly nods to acknowledge both of them, and then keeps on walking, grateful that it's cold enough that he can blame the rosiness of his cheeks on the weather.

He's careful to keep a few steps ahead of Nursey and Chowder and he gives them only grunts in response when they address him. He just needs to get through this day without doing something stupid, and then he'll have four blissful, Nursey-free days.

When they walk into the Haus, Bitty calls them all into the kitchen.

"I need y'all's help," Bitty says breathlessly. "There's just too much for me to be doin' all on my own."

"Okay!" Chowder responds enthusiastically. "What do you need?"

"Great!" Bitty says. "I need y'all to make a pecan pie for me."

"What?" Dex replies blankly. Bitty—wants them—to make a pie? Dex was thinking he would need them to do something more in the "manual labor" category, like setting up tables, washing dishes, etc. Instead he wants them to bake. Frankly, Dex had been under the impression that going anywhere _near_ Bitty's oven was liable to cause loss of limb.

Bitty, however, ignores his reservations. "The recipe is right there," he says, pointing to the only unoccupied counter space to be found in the kitchen. "I need to run to the Stop'n'Shop to pick up a few more things and that pie has to be gettin' in the oven ASAP."

"Okay! We're on it!" Chowder says.

Nursey shrugs. "Yeah man. That's chill."

Dex simply nods. The prospect of having to interact with Nursey at all is terrifying, but Bitty seems frazzled and frantic, and Dex will figure it out to help him.

"Good! Chowder, you're in charge," Bitty says hurriedly. "I'll probably be back in an hour or so."

Bitty turns on his heel and is out the front door in a flash.

Chowder walks over and picks up the recipe. "Uh," he says uncertainly, frowning deeply. "Have you guys ever made a pie before?"

"Nah man," Nursey answers coolly. "But it's chill. We can figure it out."

Dex rolls his eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff at Nursey's irritating catchphrase. So far his _chill_ count is up to 26 for the morning. Also, Dex knows from experience that making a pie is a bit more difficult than making like, cakes or cookies.

"Or you could just ask me," Dex offers. "I've actually made a pie or two before."

"Really?! You have?!" Chowder questions, seeming both confused and excited by the news that he can bake.

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a baker, Poindexter."

It's an innocent comment, and if anyone else said it, Dex probably wouldn't have minded. But it's Nursey, and just because he has a crush on him doesn't mean that Nursey still doesn't get under his skin or annoy the hell out of him, especially when he assume things about him. Dex feels a flash of anger, but he tries to tamp down on it.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Dex snaps. "So do me a favor and just shut the fuck up."

"Woah, Dex is backing down from a chance to fight," Nursey says teasingly. "You must be in a really good mood. And by 'good', I mean slightly less bitchy than usual."

It's just another dig at Dex's uptight personality and he's sorry that he can't be as laid back as Nursey, but the frequency with which he points this out is getting old. "Let's get to work on this pie," he says instead of firing back, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn't understand how he can be so pissed off at Nursey right now and still be attracted to him, but that's a problem for another time. Right now, he just wants to get this pie baked so he can stop be forced to interact with Nursey.

"Okay! Here, why don't you look at the recipe!" Chowder replies eagerly, anxious to give his friends a distraction.

Dex takes the yellowed card from Chowder and reads through it—well, he tries to. It's messily written, with most of the measurements crossed out and replaced with a different number, and at least half the instructions have been crossed out with only a one or two word comment left in their place.

"Jesus," Dex mutters under his breath as he attempts to decipher the ingredients list. He's not sure whether it calls for 1/8 tsp. of salt or 1/4 in the dough. "How can Bitty actually read this?" he asks, to no one in particular.

"Man, I bet he probably doesn't even need it," Nursey suggests.

"Yeah!" Chowder agrees. "I don't think I've ever seen him look at a recipe when he's making a pie!"

Dex nods his head in agreement. "I don't think I could do that though," he says. "I'd probably forget something."

"I wonder how long ago Bits wrote this," Nursey comments from over Dex's shoulder. His warm breath hits Dex's neck and he shivers in response. A flush starts to creep up his neck, and he really hopes that Nursey didn't notice his shiver.

"P-probably before he came to Samwell," Dex responds, taking a step away from Nursey. "But we need to start on this."

"Okay! So what's up first?" Chowder asks.

Dex glances around the kitchen. There isn't much space for them to work—Bitty has commandeered the entirety of the kitchen's limited counter space. The table isn't in any better shape, littered with discarded Solo cups and empty beer cans. At least they can clean those off and use the table, rather than potentially disturbing whatever Bitty might be working on.

"Uh, you should clear off the table and wipe it down so we can use it," Dex answers. Chowder nods and steps around Dex to grab a washcloth from the sink.

"And what do you want me to do Dexy?"

Dex blushes at the nickname. Nursey has no idea how much Dex likes it (not that Dex plans on telling him anytime soon).

"Just um—just grab the sugar and flour and shit," Dex mumbles quietly, lest his voice crack and give away how unsettled he feels.

Nursey raises an eyebrow. "I'm gonna need you to be more specific than 'and shit' man."

"Oh. Yeah," Dex stutters ( _God_ , he needs to get a grip). "I uh, I need flour, sugar and—" he pauses to look down at the recipe, "salt."

"You got it," Nursey says, shooting Dex an easy grin as he playfully knocks into his shoulder when he walks past.

Dex quickly scurries to the refrigerator to grab the butter and eggs they need. The blast of cold air that hits his burning face when he opens the door is a huge relief. He stands there for a moment, enjoying the chill.

When he starts looking for the ingredients, there's a dull thud to his right, followed by a quiet _"shit."_

Dex peeks over the door. Nursey, while reaching up to grab either the salt or sugar, had managed to drop the container of flour. He's squatting down with his back to Dex, scooping up the spilled flour to put back in the container. Dex's eyes slide down to Nursey's ass, and he chokes on his next breath. Why is he being punished like this?

Nursey whips his head around, eyes wide and unchill. Dex realizes he's been staring, though Nursey doesn't know that. He flushes. "Um. Don't put the spilled flour back in the container," he says. He sounds very awkward and stilted, stuttering through the sentence, so as soon as he finishes speaking, he ducks back behind the fridge door. If he can't get his shit together, Nursey is going to figure out his crush very quickly.

He takes a few breaths, then grabs the butter and egg and walks back to the table. Chowder is standing there expectantly. Nursey stands there as well, once again looking collected and chill.

Dex purposefully doesn't look at him, snatching up the recipe card instead. "So um, it looks like we need to mix together the flour, salt and sugar."

"Were you planning on using the table for that, or do you think that perhaps a bowl might be better?" Nursey asks, a hint of an amused smirk on his face. Nursey is obviously enjoying the way he's acting awkward and unglued. He looks like he's totally onto Dex. Fuck.

"Oh. Yeah. A bowl would be—that would be a good idea," Dex says, walking over to the cupboard. His face feels hot and he's pretty sure it's going to stay that way the whole time they bake.

He sets the bowl on the table and glances back at the card. "So we need—one and a quarter cup of flour I think, two teaspoons of sugar and—an eighth of a teaspoon of salt," he says, squinting at the recipe. He hopes those amounts are right, but he still can't tell even though he's tried to read the recipe four or five times.

"Uh, Dex?" Chowder pipes up as Dex continues to scrutinize the messy writing on the card.

"Hmm?" he hums questioningly in reply.

"Don't we need measuring cups too?"

"Oh. Yeah," Dex answers, fighting the urge to smack his forehead. "One of you guys should get them."

There's some rustling, metallic clicks and the dull thuds of drawers being opened and closed as Chowder digs around in the drawers for the measuring cups. Dex stands awkwardly as they wait, and he tries not to look at Nursey.

Dex really would like to stop embarrassing himself and get a grip on the situation. It's Nursey's fault that he's acting like this—Nursey is usually at fault when Dex is this off. But it's not like before, when Nursey made him come unglued from the words he said or the expressions on his face; now, he's making Dex lose it just by existing and being nearby. He's so fucked.

Chowder returns with the measuring cups and the spoons, which Dex didn't ask for but they definitely need.

Chowder grabs the flour first—it's the container closest to him—and he begins spading up flour, dumping the spoonfuls into the one cup measure. Nursey picks up the measuring spoons and squints at them. Dex doesn't wonder what he's thinking, and he definitely doesn't watch the way the corners of his eyes crinkle up (shut up, he's _not_ ).

Nursey shrugs and pulls the one teaspoon measure off the ring. He then picks up the salt container, and Dex, without thinking, reaches out and grabs his wrist to stop him. Nursey's eyebrows shoot up, a silent question posed to Dex.

"You know that's the _salt_ , right?" he answers.

Nursey frowns and tilts his head to the side a bit (it's not at all cute). "Are you sure about that? It looks like sugar to me."

Dex shakes his head. "It's definitely not sugar."

"How can you even tell that?"

"Well, I mean, a grain of salt is visibly bigger than a granule of sugar," Dex explains. "And uh, there's also a label on the side that says _Salt_."

"Oh," Nursey says, grinning sheepishly (and Dex has to work very hard to keep his knees from buckling). "I guess I'll use the 1/8 teaspoon then."

"Yeah, probably a good plan."

Nursey doesn't move immediately. He just keeps looking at Dex, and Dex doesn't understand why; he knows what he's supposed to be doing.

"Dex?" Nursey asks a few seconds later.

"Yeah?"

"You could probably let go of me now."

"Oh. Yeah," Dex says, flushing as he quickly withdraws his hand. His face feels like it's on fire and his whole body is uncomfortably warm, but that has nothing to do with the fact that three of the stove's four burners and the oven are on, belching tons of heat into the room.

Nursey gives Dex a strange look that he can't decipher, their eyes staying locked for a long moment until Chowder's cell phone chirps, breaking the spell.

"Oh, it's Bitty!" Chowder says, fingers quickly tapping his passcode in. "He says that there's already dough for the shell in the fridge."

"Hm. I guess—I guess we don't have to do this then," Dex mumbles.

"Swawesome," Nursey says coolly, like the events of the last minute or so had no effect on him at all. Dex needs to get his shit together; clearly Nursey is uninterested and not feeling the same things Dex is.

Nursey picks up the bowl to put it away, takes one step, and, in true Nursey fashion, trips over the leg of a chair. The only reason he doesn't fall and the only reason the ceramic bowl doesn't hit the ground and shatter is because Dex reacts, reaching out to catch him—sort of. It ends up that Dex just breaks his fall.

They hit the floor with a solid thud. Dex winces as Nursey's elbow stabs his thigh. The pain is welcome though, a distraction from thinking about how Nursey is lying on top of him.

"Sorry," Nursey says, rolling off Dex and elbowing him in the thigh again.

Dex sits up and rubs his thigh gingerly. "It's—it's fine," he says after a beat. "But uh—seeing as you've already dropped the flour and tripped—no offense, but if you keep helping, I think you're going to maim or injury one of us."

Nursey snorts. "You're probably right," he says, and thankfully, there's no hostility in his tone. "I'll just sit here, out of your way."

"Good plan," Dex says, rising to his feet. He says that largely because it'll easier to ignore Nursey if he's not helping.

As Nursey sits at the table, watching Dex and Chowder work on the filling, he wonders why Dex is acting so strangely. He knows Dex has been avoiding him, and he figured that's because he was uncomfortable with what happened last week. There have been plenty of signs that Dex is one of the Straights™, but he's always tried to hide it. Derek had guessed that seeing him making out with Liam from his American Lit class was the last straw.

He walked into the morning planning to be civil with Dex; he still has to be around him, even if he does hate him. They have to at least get along until the end of the season, when Derek can ask to be given a different partner. And Dex, for his part, started out responding to him the same way he always had.

Now that they've been working in the kitchen for a while, he's not really sure, because Dex has been so awkward. And there's this— _feeling_ in the air that Derek isn't sure if he's brave enough to label as sexual tension. He could simply be seeing what he wants to see, because he doesn't want Dex to be a homophobe. He may very well be disgusted with him, and it's manifesting itself in awkwardness, rather than anger and venom. Derek sighs quietly as he watches Dex and Chowder work. He really wishes he hadn't started crushing on Dex. It's just making this whole situation complicated. The light from the late November sun is streaming through the windows; its rays glint off of Dex's hair, making it shine a myriad of shades of red. He's such a dumbass for falling for William Poindexter, a boy who almost definitely hates his guts.

Derek gets pulled from his thoughts by a laugh. It's loud and not very pretty, snorts interspersed with gasping attempts at drawing a breath. Derek knows that Chowder doesn't laugh like that, and that there's no one else around the Haus right now (they're all still asleep probably) so that means—holy shit, Dex is _laughing_.

Derek, in complete honesty, has never heard Dex laugh like this. Not once in nearly three months. It's because Dex is always in such a sour mood whenever Derek is near him. Sometimes, he snorts derisively. Occasionally, he'll chuckle half-heartedly. But most of the time, he's too angry or irritated to find anything Derek says funny.

Dex's laugh is so bizarre and so Dex, and Derek is so fucked that all he can think is, _"Holy fuck, Dex's laugh is so cute."_

Dex whips around, staring at Derek silently. Chowder's eyes anxiously flit back and forth between them. Terror bubbles up in Derek as he comes to the conclusion that he (a man) just said that Dex (a homophobe)—that his laugh was _cute_ out loud.

Derek attempts to backpedal. "I mean, uh—"

He's interrupted by Dex doubling over, busting out into another round of snorting laughter.

Derek purses his lips, waiting for Dex to calm down. "Why are you laughing at me, asshole?" he says when he stops.

"I—I wasn't laughing at you," Dex says, still panting as he tries to catch his breath. "But I mean, it _is_ pretty hilarious that you think my laugh is _cute_."

"Well, it is," Derek replies, feeling emboldened by the fact that Dex isn't flipping the fuck out right now.

Dex shakes his head. "It's not though," he giggles. "It's so ugly!"

"It's—" Derek pauses, carefully considering whether what he's about to say is a good idea. He decides that he might as well; he can't let himself get lulled into a false sense of security about how Dex feels about queer people. "It's not very cute on its own," he explains. "I'll give you that. But when you consider it as like, part of the whole—you know, all of you—it's cute. Cause you're very cute."

The smile fades from Dex's face, a scowl replacing it. "You're an ass."

"And you're stating the obvious."

"What is your problem?" Dex asks, his fists clenching at his sides.

"You. You're my problem. You're too attractive and I can't think straight whenever you're around," Derek answers, and that's the honest-to-God truth.

"Yeah, sure," Dex scoffs, turning back to the stove. "How about the next time you want to say anything like that, you keep it yourself. Otherwise, I'm going to punch you in the fucking face."

"I figured as much," Derek says.

"What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?" Dex retorts angrily.

Derek shrugs. "You don't think I haven't figured it out?" he says, and Dex goes ghostly white.

"You—you don't know what you're talking about," Dex says uncertainly.

"You saw me at the kegster and you've been avoiding me since. You just freaked out when I complimented you. It's not that hard to connect the dots."

"I'm sorry," Dex replies.

Derek laughs humorlessly. "Sorry doesn't magically make being a homophobic asshat okay."

"That's what you think this is about?" Dex snaps, stalking over to Derek. He doesn't flinch, doesn't move, doesn't cower. He's not going to give Dex the satisfaction. "Well, I've got news for you. Once again, you've got it completely wrong."

"Denying something doesn't automatically make it false," Derek counters.

Dex clenches Derek's shirt in his fist and pulls him up. Derek braces himself for the punch, but it never comes. Instead, Dex's mouth is on his, messily and angrily kissing him.

It's not long and when Dex pulls away, shoving Derek back into the chair, there's a fire in his eyes as he growls, "I'm not homophobic. I'm actually really fucking gay."

Derek blinks. "Wait, what?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"I'm. Fucking. Gay."

"Oh, y-you are?"

"Fuck, Derek, that's what I just said!" Dex shouts. "I'm gay! Homosexual! A man who likes other men! However you want to describe it, that's me!"

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_ is right," Dex says.

Derek scrunches his eyebrows together. This is—confusing. "So what's your problem then. I was complimenting you. Don't you like that?" he asks.

"You say you were 'complimenting' me, but really you were just making fun of me for having a crush on you. Isn't that right?"

"You think that— _fuck_ ," Derek swears, reaching out to put his hand on Dex's bicep. "I had no idea you had a crush on me. I—I mean I just said I thought you were…" Derek trails off, distracted by the way Dex's face softens and he sees the glimmer of hope in Dex's eye. "I know we haven't always got along, but I'm not a jerk. I wouldn't do that to you."

"You mean—"

"Yeah, I meant every word."

Dex blinks. "Oh."

Derek laughs, tugging Dex down so he can place another kiss on his lips. "Your crush is definitely mutual," he whispers against Dex's mouth.

The front door bangs open and they fly apart just as Bitty comes rushing into the kitchen.

"Oh my Lord!" he says, plopping several bags of groceries on the table. "You would not believe how busy the Stop'n'Shop was. So many people buyin' last minute stuff! Doesn't anyone know how to plan ahead?"

Derek grins. "Apparently not," he answers. "But I think it _might_ be worth pointing out that you were getting stuff last minute too."

Dex giggles as Bitty's blushes from embarrassment. Derek learns that he'd like to do everything in his power to hear that again.

"Goodness! Look at that pie!" Bitty says to distract them.

Derek wonders exactly when the pie got finished, because they had still been working on it when the whole thing with Dex started.

"Chowder did most of the work," Dex says as Bitty leans over to examine the pie through the window in the door of the oven.

While he does, Derek catches Dex's eye. Dex blushes when Derek smirks, something he finds very interesting. He wonders, not for the first time, if that blush goes down any further than his neck. He certainly would like to find out.

Derek clears his throat. "I think I left something at my dorm I have to go back and get."

"I'll come with you," Dex responds too quickly, and Derek raises an eyebrow, a silent way of telling Dex to chill.

Bitty doesn't notice. "Are you sure that's a good idea," he asks. "You're not goin' to fight or anythin'?"

"I'm sure they'll be fine Bitty!" Chowder chimes in, winking at both of them.

"Alright well, y'all better not dawdle!" Bitty says as they both make their way toward the door. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour and I'm servin', whether y'all are here or not!"

"Okay," the both call back, though Derek has a feeling they both could care less about making it back on time.


	15. Living Poetry

_**Full Title: The Living Poetry of William J. Poindexter and Derek Malik Nurse**_

 **Summary:** _William J. Poindexter is a living, breathing poem, and he's being asked to be a part of it...so he kisses back, and allows himself to get lost in the poetry of their lips and hearts joining together._

 **A/N:** Last night, while I was lying in bed, I was thinking about Nursey and Dex and poetry and like...I actually started writing some decent poetry in my head and I was like...I gotta turn this into a fic. So I wrote this in like two hours just now (instead of studying for exams), and it's a soft, gay mess (just like me). Hope y'all like it :)

* * *

"I mean, why would someone like you want me?"

Derek doesn't remember how they got here. How they went from lounging on the couch during Haus movie night to standing in the bathroom. He doesn't remember how they got here, doesn't know what prompted Dex to say what he just did, but his jaw nearly drops when he hears it.

"Someone like me?" he inquires dumbly, because he understands what that means when someone says it the way Dex just did; like he's something unattainable, out of his league, which is probably just about the most ridiculous thing Derek has heard in his life.

"Yeah, someone like you," Dex repeats, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You're all easy smiles and flawless skin and beautiful green eyes and I'm—God, I'm just some awkward ginger boy with stupidly big ears and too many freckles and weird amber eyes and—"

Derek frowns because, nope, _that's_ the most ridiculous thing he's heard in his life. None of those things are anything he associates with Dex.

"Will," he mumbles because Dex is still going on about something. Dex stops, and Derek steps closer, moving into Dex's space. "Will, when I look at you, I don't see any of those things. I don't see an awkward ginger or stupidly big ears or too many freckles or weird amber eyes. I see someone who is far more beautiful and—well, _poetic_ than they seem to realize."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Dex asks.

Derek shakes his head. He's been writing poetry about Dex since the day they first met on the taddy tour. Well, he's tried to write poetry. He's lost count of the number of times he's sat down with an open composition book and a pen and tried to put down all the thoughts he has swirling around in his head about Dex. The pen hovers over the page, sentences are formed and then quickly discarded. He's tried to write poetry about Dex, but nothing he comes up with has ever felt worthy enough of Dex to actually put on paper.

Maybe it's because he never feels like he can distill the essence of Dex down, he can't focus all the thoughts he has into one, clear theme. But just maybe—hair, freckles, ears, eyes. That might be just enough to get him started.

"When I look at you, I don't see red hair," Derek whispers the beginning of his poem, so quietly that if they weren't so close, Dex wouldn't be able to hear him. "Instead, I see hair the color of fire, matching the blaze roaring inside you. It allows the world to see the way you crackle and burn up inside, sometimes being consumed by anger, or by desire. It shows the flame of passion and intensity, a flame that burns brighter than any I've ever seen."

Derek pauses, reaching out and brushing Dex's bangs off his forehead. Dex doesn't shy away from the contact, and there's nothing in his expression that suggests to Derek that he should stop. So he continues on.

"When I look at you," he says, hand falling to Dex's cheek, absently tracing shapes with Dex's freckles. "I don't see someone with too many freckles. I don't think that's possible. Instead, I see freckles, as numerous as the stars, adorning your skin, their twinkling dots forming constellations and patterns so intricate that the stars could only hopelessly dream to match them."

Dex is still quiet, the only sound coming from him being his slow but ragged breathing. His face betrays nothing, so it's only that and the way Dex is trembling slightly under his touch that Derek has any idea that what he's saying is affecting Dex.

"Your ears—well, maybe I can't describe them poetically the way I can everything else," Derek says, sighing slightly, because that kind of broke the rhythm of the poem, but this is like, a rough draft. It's not going to be perfect. So he takes a deep breath, and pushes through. "But when I look at them, I don't see stupidly big ears. I see big ears that show your capacity to listen, to lend an ear to your friends and listen to their problems. I look at your ears and I see sympathy and empathy."

Which that leaves Dex's eyes. In his head, he's written many lines of poetry about all of Dex's features—except his eyes. Every time he gets to his eyes, his heart stops and his mind goes blank. Every part of Dex is indescribable, but his eyes even more so. But there's something about the way this poem is coming out of him that makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, he might come up with something this time.

"Your eyes," Derek says, closing his own and sucking in a deep breath. "Your eyes—they're—well, they're the part of you that enchants and haunts me the most. You look at your eyes and you see weird and amber. I look at them and I'm—I'm reminded of a sunset over the water. When the sun just touches the horizon and the sky becomes a mixture of reds, oranges, and yellows, as if the sun's radiance is burning up the very atmosphere. I think of the sunset, and I see the hues of red and orange and yellow refracting off the water's waves, creating an endless sea of color."

"I see an ocean in your eyes when I look at you Will. They're full of the depths of your emotions, and I find myself transfixed when you narrow them in concentration, maybe on a program that isn't working, or when you're trying to learn Ransom and Holster's newest play. I'm bewitched when they crinkle up at the corners as you laugh, often at me for tripping over my feet again, or for knocking over my full glass for the fifth time this week. But most of all, I'm captivated when I see the way your eyes communicate love. It's something I could never hope to put into words. But I see the way you look at your dads, and at your brothers and sisters, and at Chowder and the other Samwell guys, and I see so much love that it nearly bowls me over."

Derek bites his lip. The next thing he wants to say might be too much. But he's already gone so far with this. Dex isn't dumb—he knows where all this is coming from. So he might as well just go for broke. And so this poem about William J. Poindexter, becomes a poem about William J. Poindexter _and_ Derek Malik Nurse.

"I see the way you look at someone you love and I—my heart wishes that you could look at me that way," he says, and Dex's face, which has been to this point blank and unreadable, finally shows some emotion. His eyes widen slightly, and jaw drops a bit. "Sometimes, I think I do. Like the time when we tried to stay up and binge all of Brooklyn 99. I was still awake at 3 AM, but you were fast asleep, your face pressed into my shoulder. I wanted to put an arm around you and pull the covers over us and fall asleep together, but I was scared to see the anger in your eyes the next morning. So I shook you awake, and for a moment, when you looked up at me, I saw it. I saw that love, and I wanted to ask you to stay, but I didn't. I sent you back to your room, and I thought about that look. I knew it was just because you were still half-asleep. But god, how I wished that it was because that was what you truly felt."

"Nursey—" Dex says, but Derek can't stop the words from pouring out his mouth, from laying his heart out bare for Dex to see.

"I watch you give so much love to everyone every day. I watch you give love to everyone but me, and maybe it doesn't hurt like it used to, but it still stings. But I can watch without being blinded by that gaze being turned on me, and maybe that's a good thing. Maybe, one day, I'll think back on the way you look at the people you love, and I'll see the same look in someone else's eyes being directed at me, and then I'll know what it feels like to be loved that much."

"Nursey, you a—" Dex tries again, but Derek still can't stop.

"And for now, I'm surviving. I'm soaking up the stray rays of every look you give, even though it's not for me. I'm trying to memorize the feeling, because I know that I don't have much time left to share with you. We're graduating in a year. In a year, we're going to say goodbye to each other, go our separate ways, and maybe I'll never forget you, but before you even realize it, I'll just be some faint memory in the back of your mind. I'll be a person you once knew like the back of my hand, but the years have erased the familiar veins, marks and scars, leaving only a faint imprint in their place."

"Don't say that Derek!" Dex says, his jaw clenching the way it always does when Dex is feeling particularly determined or defiant.

"It's the truth though," Derek replies, chuckling sadly. "We think we won't forget something important that happened to us, or an important person from a certain part of our lives, but we do. Life goes on, and we start making new memories, and then we make more until suddenly, there isn't room for the old memories any more. Only the people that affected you deeply, that reached in and made their mark on your heart remain. Everyone else, we forget, even though we vowed never to. And it happens because time is exacting, unforgiving, and we are forced to carry on, whether we want to or not."

" _Only the people that reached in and made their mark on your heart remain,"_ Dex repeats, placing his hand over Derek's heart. "Maybe you don't realize but—you've made your mark on mine."

Derek nearly scoffs at this. He doesn't exactly, but he does let out a derisive puff of air. Because it all goes back to the eyes, to the looks that Dex gives him. Derek has never seen Dex give him a look that makes it seem like he's even come close to scratching the surface of Dex's heart, let alone making his own mark on it.

"You don't believe me," Dex sighs.

"How can I?" Derek asks. "There's barely any emotion in your eyes when you look at me. There's no affection, no fondness, no love of any kind. How could I possibly have made any kind of mark on you if after three years, that's still how you look at me?"

"You've never seen the way I really, _truly_ look at you," Dex says, and their faces are so close that Derek can feel his breath ghosting over his lips.

"Yes I—"

"No you haven't," Dex says, shaking his head. "You couldn't have, because I've always made sure you weren't looking."

Derek's heart starts to beat faster, something rising in his chest that feels dangerously like hope. "How—how do you look at me then?" he questions.

"I look at you with—fuck, I'm so in love with you. And when you're not looking at me I look at you and—it's written all over my face," Dex answers, his hands coming to rest at the place where they meet his neck. "Chowder chirps me for it all the time."

"Why didn't—how come I never got to see it?" Derek asks.

"It's like I said—why would someone like you want someone like me?" Dex replies with a shrug. "I was protecting myself. We were friends and I was—well I was the one being selfish. I wanted to keep you, however I could have you, and I thought that that meant I had to hide it all. When you looked at me, I had to make sure you couldn't see anything, or else you—the guy who I thought would never want me—would be able to see just how much I was in love with you."

"But you're telling me now."

"Yeah," Dex mumbles. "I wasn't planning to be but no one has ever—I've never heard someone describe me in a ways that made me want to love the way I look. And so I guess—what's the point in hiding love from someone who clearly feels the same way, right?" Dex pauses, bites his lip, looks down for a second, and then brings his eyes back up to meet Derek's. "You do feel the same way, right?"

Derek is so lost in Dex's eyes that he almost doesn't hear the question. That look is there in Dex's eyes, unguarded, and so much brighter and intense that Derek has ever seen, a look that he feels only he could bring out of Dex. It's love and admiration and need and everything Derek has ever wanted to see in Dex's eyes.

"Derek?"

"Oh God yes," Derek gasps. "I love you so much that sometimes my chest hurts and I can't breathe but you never looked at me the way you did everyone else and I just never thought you would."

"I've never looked at you the way I look at everyone else because I don't feel the same way about anyone else," Dex says, and that's it. Derek has to kiss him.

He presses their lips together, and for a brief moment, Derek thinks that Dex's lips are worthy of an addition to his poem about him. Hell, he thinks he could write an entire anthology about the way Dex is kissing him right now.

But what does he care about writing poetry right now? William J. Poindexter is a living, breathing poem, and he's being asked to be a part of it, something he wants to do with all his heart and soul. So he kisses back, and allows himself to get lost in the poetry of their lips and hearts joining together.


	16. Slipping and Falling (into Love)

**Summary:** Nursey is clumsy. Dex knows this. Yet when they venture out after a terrible snowstorm, he's still caught off-guard when Nursey slips and falls on the ice.

 **A/N:** I literally don't know what this is...but enjoy it anyway :)

* * *

 _It's literally ridiculous how much butter Bitty goes through_ , Dex muses as he and Nursey walk out of the Haus to go to the murder Stop'n'Shop. They had known yesterday morning that starting in the afternoon, they would be hit with a nasty snowstorm (a foot and a half of snow plus a half inch of ice for good measure), so Ransom and Holster had gone out and supposedly stocked up on everything Bitty could possibly need for the next few days. But then Bitty literally spent all of that afternoon and most of this morning stress baking and he was out. And because Ransom and Holster had gone out yesterday that meant he and Nursey had drawn the short straw (well, actually Nursey had drawn the short straw, which means Dex had to come with him because there's no way he'd make it to the shop on his own in this weather).

There's white everywhere, mostly untouched. The road out in front of the Haus hasn't been plowed yet, and only a few tire tracks mar its otherwise pristine surface. The sidewalks are partially cleared, leaving them a narrow path to walk to the store on.

By necessity they walk close to each other, with Nursey on his left. Their shoulders brush with every step (and their hands would too, if they hadn't both shoved them into their coat pockets), and Nursey feels like he's too close to him. Like he's crowding into Dex's space and suffocating him—but then again, lately that's how he's felt any time Nursey is in the same room, or smiles at him, or talks to him, or—basically does anything at all, Dex feels as if he can't breathe. Like Nursey has sucked all the air out of the room or some poetic bullshit like that. Nursey is there all the time and Dex just wishes he'd go away so he could have a second to take a breath (but that doesn't happen, because Dex has never gotten any kind of break in his life).

They're walking along, bent over slightly as they lean into the wind, trudging slowly through the snow. And then Dex sees it start to happen out of the corner of his eye.

Dex really should've expected this, because it's _Nursey_ , the same guy who can manage to trip over thin air. And to some extent he did, because he insisted on coming along; he just didn't expect it to happen so soon, when they're barely out of sight of the Haus.

But Nursey takes a step, and his foot lands on a patch of ice hidden beneath a thin layer of powdery snow. It lands, and instead of gripping the ground, it keeps sliding. Nursey lurches, losing his balance, and Dex knows there's no way he's going to get it back before he hits the ground. Reaching out, Dex grabs his bicep to try and hold him up, but that only seems to make it worse.

His other foot slips, and suddenly Nursey is in free fall, heading toward the ground, leaving Dex no choice but to put an arm under his back. He stumbles, but he's able to gain control of his and Nursey's momentum before the both hit the ground.

They come to a halt, and Dex looks down at Nursey's panicked expression. His eyes are wide and he's breathing heavily. It's a little more than absurd, but in spite of that, he still looks good and Dex mentally curses. _God, I'm so in love with him_ , he thinks.

At that moment, they lock eyes, and Dex feels his face start to flush, not in response to the biting cold. He's holding Nursey in such a way that it looks like his dipping him, as if they're in some ballroom dancing class and not outside on a sidewalk in the middle of winter. That, combined with the thought that just ran through his head, is more than enough to make Dex feel completely and totally unsettled.

Nursey bites his lip, and Dex notices a blush that's forming on his cheeks as well, though Nursey's isn't nearly as noticeable because of his darker skin tone. They're both at a loss for words, and they're not moving. Dex's arms are starting to feel the strain of holding Nursey up, and so he clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something—anything to break this spell that they seem to have both come under.

"Uhh, I think I need a band-aid 'cause I hurt myself falling for you."

Dex clamps his jaw shut and—where the hell did _that_ come from? Apparently, all that his panicked and love-addled mind could come up with was a terrible and cheesy pick-up line.

"You do remember I'm the one that fell, right?" Nursey asks, his brow furrowing, and Dex wants to sink through the ground and die.

"I panicked, okay!" Dex replies. The moment was so tense and he's in love and he was panicking and so of course, not only was the only thing he could come up with a pick-up line, it was one that didn't even make sense.

Dex brings a hand up to scrub his face—or to possibly hide his darkening blush—whichever option is less incriminating. In doing this, he leaves his other arm to bear the complete weight of Nursey's body, which is more than it can handle, and before he can react to get his other arm back supporting Nursey, he loses him and lets him fall to the ground.

His weight nearly brings Dex down with him, but Dex manages to get his arm out from under him just in time. He doesn't take any time to rebalance himself before he scrambles to help Nursey back up, so when his foot hits the same patch of ice that sent Nursey tumbling the first time, his legs comes out from under him completely, and he falls, landing squarely on top of Nursey with a quiet _oof_.

Dex is going to get off him right away, but Nursey, apparently not affected by Dex landing on him in the slightest (or at the very least, pretending he isn't), says, "Nice of you to drop in," and Dex just stops. Dex can hear Nursey's grin of self-congratulations at being smoother than him in his voice, can picture the look on his face, and Dex is done. He's literally just so ridiculous.

 _I take it back, I'm not in love with you_ , Dex thinks, even though he doesn't mean it at all.

A beat after that thought passes through his mind, Dex feels the rumbling of Nursey's voice in his chest against his own. "You're _what_?" Nursey asks, his voice quiet and yet shocked and incredulous.

Dex frowns, and then a second later, it occurs to him what happened. His face suddenly feels freezing cold as all the blood drains from it, and his whole body goes numb. His mouth opened without his brain's permission, allowing his last thought to escape from his lips unfettered.

"I—what nothing I didn't say anything," Dex answers quickly, because he has to say something, anything to deflect from the momentous (and possibly destructive) confession that he just accidentally voiced. If possible, he has to ensure that Nursey never, _ever_ knows what he just said.

"Look, I know I'm wearing a beanie and that sometimes makes it hard to hear, but I _know_ I heard you say something," Nursey rebuts firmly and surely.

"No! I didn't say anything!" Dex snaps without thinking, because it's hard to think when the only thing happening in your mind is essentially the equivalent of a deafening, blaring emergency siren. "Would you just fucking chill?!"

There's a long pause.

"Did you just tell me to chill?"

"Fuck," Dex mumbles, bringing a hand up to cover his face as his cheeks begin to burn again. That was the worst thing he could've said there, because even if Nursey didn't hear exactly what he let slip, the fact that Dex just told him to chill and forget it is going to be enough to make Nursey suspicious of its seriousness.

Fucking fuck, he's so fucked.

"Dex," Nursey grunts as that thought plays through his head on a loop. "Okay Dex, I know there's something big going on in your head and like—as nice as this is, you've been laying on top of me for like five minutes and it's getting hard to breathe."

Dex would like to move. He really would. But at the moment he's absolutely terrified. _Something big going on in your head_. Nursey is 100% onto him, and that means it's only a matter of time before he figures out what Dex said and that's kind of all he can focus on at the moment. It's too much to even focus on moving.

Nursey lets him lie there for another minute or so before pushing his shoulder gently. "Yo Dex, please," he says, his voice strained.

Dex doesn't want to hurt him, so that gets his attention enough that he can force himself to move. But he doesn't move very far, rolling over off Nursey and onto his back. He gazes up blankly at the sky as his mind continues to race. He stares for a few long minutes, waiting for Nursey to get up, to say something, but he doesn't.

"Nice weather," Dex then offers up weakly, which doesn't make any sense because they literally just had a terrible snowstorm, but he's just been a mess so far this morning so at least he's being consistent.

Nursey frowns at him then sighs deeply. "Fine, so you're going to play this game," he says, sitting up. "That's chill I guess," he continues, offering up a wavering smile as he stands up and looks down at Dex, standing over him so they're forced to make eye contact. "But I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you too so like—if you ever want to like, not pretend this didn't happen, you know where to find me."

Nursey moves to take a step onward toward—right, the store, that's where they were going—but then Dex processes what he said.

 _I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you too_.

"Wait, stop!" Dex yells, and Nursey turns abruptly, apparently having forgotten how slippery the sidewalk is. So he slips and falls— _again_. At least this time he returns the favor from earlier, landing on top of Dex instead of eating concrete.

"So that's just how this is going to go, isn't it?" Nursey mumbles, Dex assumes, to himself while he's propping himself up on his elbows to look Dex in the eye (his elbows manage to slip at least three times and if Dex wasn't so shocked and the moment so serious, he would be laughing hysterically. Eventually he gets himself propped up.

"Are—are you really being serious? Are you really in love with me too?" Dex questions, because he's not sure he believes what he heard.

"Yeah," Nursey answers, and Dex's whole body feels like it's on fire even though it's below freezing. Then a smirk starts to come across Nursey's face and Dex almost feels like throwing up because fuck, this was just a—

"I fell for you, didn't I?" Nursey adds, and now Dex can't stop himself from rolling his eyes. Nursey thinks he was being clever and smooth, but really he was just being a massive dork (while also giving Dex a heart attack at the same time). Dex kind of wants to punch him in the face, but he also wants to kiss the smirk clean off it too.

Of the two options, Dex likes the second one better though, so he leans forward and gently presses their lips together. "Whatever," Dex mutters when he pulls away after a few seconds. He's blushing, probably darker than he ever has, but at least he got Nursey to stop smirking. Now he's got the goofiest grin Dex has ever seen on his face—but if he's being honest, he's probably wearing a similar expression because Nursey loves him and they kissed and—well he doesn't know what comes next, but that doesn't matter right now.

Nursey bends down and kisses him again, and really, Dex would like to stay here and do this all day, but it's cold, and he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, reminding him of why they're out here in the first place.

He pushes Nursey back gently, and Nursey pouts, but Dex shakes his head. "We need to get going," he says. "We went out to get butter and we're already taking too long. Bitty was almost out when we left and I'm pretty sure no one wants to know what happens if he runs out."

Nursey shudders and nods. "Ch'yeah, that's true," he says, climbing off of Dex and moving to stand up (and Dex does not whine at the loss of Nursey's weight and heat, shut the fuck up). But because he's Nursey, and because he's clumsier than any other human being Dex has ever met, he slips and falls for a fucking third time, landing on his stomach next to Dex.

"Ouch," he moans loudly.

Dex can't help laughing. A year ago, he would've laughed because Nursey was an idiot and didn't remember falling twice, and wasn't more careful trying to get up. Now, he's laughing because this is a ludicrous situation. He admitted his love and found out Nursey felt the same and got to kiss him—all because Nursey is fucking clumsy. He's an actual human disaster, and Dex is so unbelievably in love with him.

"Yeah, okay, go ahead and laugh instead of helping me up," Nursey grumbles, shoving Dex lightly.

"Oh chill. I was getting there," Dex says.

"You just told me to chill again," Nursey says, and Dex can't see his face but he can hear the shit-eating grin he's wearing.

"You know I could just let you lie there."

"C'mon Dexy, help me," Nursey practically wails, and Dex rolls his eyes.

"You know you're ridiculous, right?" he says, rolling Nursey onto his back and offering his hand.

"And yet," Nursey says when they're finally back up and steady on their feet, "you're in love with me."

Dex lets out a snort of laughter as he smiles softly. "Yeah, I really am."


	17. The Best Present

**Summary:** Will isn't sure what to get his boyfriend for Valentine's Day, a day that also happens to be his boyfriend's birthday. And while, the present he decides to give Derek is a great one, it's not the one he thinks it is.

 **A/N:** I originally posted this on Valentine's Day, but since I had to hurry to get it posted then, I was unable to revise the fic. So, now that I have revised it, I am finally posting it here. Enjoy!

 **WARNING: NSFW CONTENT**

* * *

Will sits on the edge of the bed in his and Derek's shared dorm room, swinging his legs back and forth as he anxiously awaits his boyfriend's return from class. All the lights are off, save for Will's desk lamp, leaving the room dimly lit, as the only other sources of light is the sun peeking through the closed blinds, and the illegally lit candle sitting on the dresser. There are rose petals scattered on the floor, leading to the bed, where Will has sprinkled more of them on the bedspread. It's as romantic an atmosphere as Will knows how to create, and he's certain it will make Derek swoon. Despite that certainty, it doesn't stop Will's heart from racing in his chest.

His nerves aren't about how he thinks Derek will react to the romantic scene that's now overtaken their room; it's about his reasoning for setting this up in the first place. See, today is Valentine's Day—and also Derek's birthday. Which means Will is responsible for getting Derek a fantastic gift that covers both events. A gift that says "I'm glad you were born and also I love you so much I can't breathe when I think about being without you."

He's been agonizing over the options for weeks. Will knew that giving Derek material things wouldn't mean a whole lot. There weren't many things Will could buy that Derek didn't already have, or couldn't easily get for himself. He had to do something, say something that would convey his feelings, and yet wouldn't feel too cliché, cheesy, or just not _them_.

Will's breakthrough came yesterday, when Ransom and Holster were teasing Bitty about him and Jack. Being Ransom and Holster, a lot of it was unnecessarily sexual, which made Will crinkle his nose up (because Bitty feels like his parent so—ew). But their line about "tapping that ass" sparked an idea in Will's brain.

For his birthday/Valentine's gift, Will was going to give Derek the gift of sex.

Well, that was a little misleading. It's not that they haven't done sexual things before. They're horny 19 (or in Derek's case, now 20) year olds who are in love. They've certainly had a lot of sex in the almost full year they've been together, in the sense that they've given each other a lot of hand and blowjobs. But they've never had sex, at least not in the way Will had been traditionally taught to think about sex—meaning that, in order to be having sex, it must be penetrative.

Early on in their relationship, they almost did a couple of times, but Will stopped them before they got there, and after a while, Derek stopped trying. It's not that Will didn't want to do it, per sé, but he was extremely uncomfortable with the idea.

He's always been a little frightened by the idea of something that big going up there (especially since he's heard it hurts), but more than anything, he's still been stuck on the feeling that it's gross and wrong for two guys to do that. Will has gotten over a lot of his internalized homophobia, but this one has always felt like the biggest hurdle to jump. Years of people saying it wasn't natural, that men "weren't designed for that," and even the select few people who compared it to other, worse things, had stuck with him.

But the more time he spends with his boyfriend, and the more he's heard the Samwell guys talk about it like it's no big deal (like, he would dare say, natural), the easier it's been getting for Will not to care what those people think about what he does with the person who he loves. He loves Derek, Derek loves him, and if someone has a problem with how they show that love, well then they can fuck off, Will thinks as he mulls over his gift idea.

He made up his mind the day before Valentine's. He was going to do it. So that's why he's sitting here, romantic atmosphere and all, waiting for Derek to return. Still, knowing that this is what he wants to do doesn't stop him from feeling fucking terrified.

Will hears the knob turn and he leaps to his feet, crossing the room so he's standing inside the door when Derek walks in.

"Hey ba—" he starts to say, before stopping, gazing around the room wide-eyed. "What's all this?" he asks.

Will pushes the door closed, then grabs Derek by his coat and pulls him into a kiss. "Hi Derek," he says, ignoring the question putting his face in the crook of Derek's neck for a long moment, hoping that his warm embrace will calm his nerves. Derek holds him tightly, and Will tries to keep his body from trembling in his arms, but his heart is racing too fast and he's too nervous to keep himself still.

"Will, babe, you're shaking," Derek mumbles softly in his ear, running a hand up and down Will's back. "What's wrong?"

"I'm—I'm nervous," Will answers.

"I figured," Derek says, bringing a hand up to gently massage the back of Will's head. "But why?"

"It's your present," Will says, lifting his head so he can look Derek in the eye. "I'm nervous about your present."

"Listen, you didn't have to get me anything. I'm just happy to—"

"I want to have actual sex with you!" Will blurts out, blushing furiously as he interrupts Derek.

Derek's brow crinkles up as he frowns. "Actual sex?" he questions. "As opposed to like, all the fake sex we've been having?"

Will squeezes his eyes shut and breathes in deeply. "That's—that's not what I meant," he murmurs, his face burning hotter than he thought was even possible. "I meant that I want you to—to—you know, like—"

"Oh, you mean you want to have _sex_ ," Derek replies, and Will nods his head. Opening his eyes, Will sees that Derek's have blown wide, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stares at him. "I—oh my God—I'm not—I wasn't expecting—I didn't think we would ever—why do you—what changed?" Derek stammers out after a long beat of silence, struggling for the words the way he always does when Will has done something particularly surprising.

"I guess I just decided that I was tired of people making me feel like—you know, two guys having that kind of sex—I'm not going to let them make me feel like it isn't right," Will explains, his voice quiet, but firm and confident in the words he's saying. "I want to be—I want to feel like I'm doing whatever I can to be as close to you as possible. Because, you know, I love you a lot and—this really does feel right to me now."

"I love you too Will, so much," Derek says, his thumb dragging along Will's cheekbone as he speaks. "But I just—this is—I don't—listen, like—we could actually never do this and it wouldn't change how much I love you or somehow mean that we love each other less than other couple who do. I just—I only want to do this if this is what you really want to do. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Will snorts softly. "Not really," he answers. "Well, I mean yes, I want to do this. But I'm also scared, so I'm definitely not sure. If that makes sense?"

"You want to do this but you're scared—like, you trust me a lot, but this is a whole new level of trust and it's scary," Derek says, nodding his head understandingly, and Will nods his head too, in confirmation of Derek's reasoning. "You know you don't have to, right? You can be on top, if you want."

"I don't have—I mean my experience with this is zero. Not with girls, not with guys, not with anyone," Will counters. "You have the experience and you know what to do and I just don't, and I'm scared of messing up and hurting you."

"You wouldn't," Derek replies.

"I'm not sure of that," Will says, shaking his head insistently. "I'm not going to ask you to be in a position where I might hurt you. I—I trust you—and your experience—way more than I trust myself.

"Are you—"

"Yes, I'm 100% sure, Derek," Will snaps back in frustration.

Derek's expression goes impossibly soft as he cups Will's cheeks and gently pecks him on the lips. "Okay babe," he murmurs. "You want me to take care of you, so I will, I promise."

"Just—just _please_ be gentle," Will says, releasing a shuddering breath.

"I will be," Derek says. "And if at any point you tell me to stop, I will, no questions asked. You can trust me."

"O-okay," Will stutters. "S-so—how do we uh—how does this start?"

"The same way it always does," Derek whispers before pressing his mouth to Will's.

Derek's hand moves from Will's cheek to snake around his torso, holding him in tightly to his chest as they kiss, softly at first. Then Derek licks at his bottom lip, and Will opens his to allow Derek's tongue in. They stand there for a while, kissing passionately.

They're moving at a much slower pace than usual. By now, they'd normally have their all clothes off, and someone's dick would be in the other's mouth. And sure, they're doing something different, something they've never done before, but Will doesn't like the agonizingly deliberate speed they seem to be moving at. When it comes to getting off, Will has never taken it slow, so the feeling of going this slow is—frustrating.

" _Derek,"_ Will whines—no, _pleads_ , breaking the kiss as his dick strains hindered by the restricting denim fabric of his pants.

"Patience," Derek replies, pressing a finger to Will's mouth.

However, despite what he just said, Derek slides his thumbs up under the hem of Will's shirt, signaling that he wants the shirt taken off. Will complies, pulling the garment up over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room (not in the direction of the open flame) before reaching down to try and pull Derek's shirt off.

Derek puts his hands on Will's, stopping him from pulling up. "Will, can we just—can you slow down?" Derek queries. "You're doing a big thing by opening up to me like this and I just—I want this to be slow and romantic, rather than rushing through it because we're horny. That's what we always do and this—it's a big moment in our relationship. I don't want it be just it always is. I want to savor it so I'll always remember."

Will looks into Derek's bright green eyes, and his impatience doesn't exactly melt away, but it feels less pressing. He wants this to be something that they'll always remember too. "Savor it," he repeats, releasing Derek's hands and slowly lowering his to his sides. "Yeah, okay. We'll go at your pace."

Derek flashes him a smile, and Will feels his chest tighten. He loves Derek, and that's why he wanted to do this. Sometimes their love is intense and fast and messy, like the first time they hooked up at a kegster, desperate to get their hands on and all over each other. But when Will looks at Derek's face and the rose petals on the bed and small candle glowing the corner, Will realizes this is a moment that their love is slow-burning and patient—still just as intense, but much more patient and slow. So Will inhales deeply and releases the air slowly, giving his body a chance to stop racing ahead.

When he breathes in again, Derek's mouth is on his again, and Will follows along pliantly, kissing back but allowing Derek to lead him along as slowly as he wants. He focuses on losing himself in the feeling of their lips and tongues coming together as one, savoring the moment just as Derek asked him to.

After Will doesn't know how long, Derek breaks away from the kiss. Will whines and chases his lips. Derek chuckles softly. "Wouldn't you rather get your dick sucked?" he asks, and Will opens his eyes to see that Derek is sinking to his knees. He sucks in a harsh breath, suddenly becoming aware (again) of just how hard he is.

"Holy fuck, _yes_ ," Will pants.

With deliberate speed, Derek works the button of his jeans, undoing it and unzipping them, yanking his pants down to his ankles. Derek looks at his bulge for a long minute, apparently just admiring it. Will can't help the throaty whine that escapes his body.

Derek smirks up at him. "Okay, okay, I'll stop torturing you now," he says.

He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Will's tight black briefs (the ones he knows generally give Derek a heart attack) and pulls them off, finally revealing Will's straining cock. Derek wraps his thumb and pointer finger around the base, his other hand braced on the back of Will's thigh.

Derek, at last, wraps his mouth around Will's cock, and Will quietly moans at how good it feels. Derek's mouth is warm and wet as he sucks gently at the tip. He starts there before making his way down the shaft, each time taking Will just a millimeter more into his mouth than before.

It's an incredible blowjob, one that's perfectly designed for him (perfected by months of practice). It's actually too good, and Will feels himself start to approach the edge of his orgasm. He puts his hands on Derek's head, gently pulling his head off.

Derek's brow furrows, looking up at Will and appearing far too pretty for someone who was just sucking cock. "Something wrong? You want me to stop?" he questions.

"No, nothing's wrong," Will says, breathing heavily as he shakes his head. "Just—close."

"Oh yeah, right," Derek says, and there's almost a hint of flush on his cheeks as he stands up.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Will asks.

"No, I didn't forget, I just—I love sucking your dick and I got caught up in it," Derek splutters.

"So you definitely forgot."

"Shut up and lie down on your back, Poindexter," Derek directs.

"You want me to lie down right here on the floor? Or do you want me on the bed?" Will replies, flashing a shit-eating grin at his boyfriend, because even during sex, the bickering never stops.

"Oh my God, yes the fucking bed," Derek groans exasperatedly as he reaches into the drawer where they keep lube—and now, the drawer has also been stocked with condoms.

"Whatever you say," Will responds, hopping on the bed.

"Okay, spread 'em," Derek says, climbing onto the bed and pulling on one of Will's legs.

"Spread what?" Will asks (even though he knew what Derek meant), voice wavering as his nerves slowly start to creep in on him again.

Derek, as if sensing this, climbs up and presses a soft kiss to Will's lips. "It's going to be okay, I promise. All you have to do is breathe and try to relax, okay?"

Will breathes in deeply, trying to do as Derek told him while he settles himself between Will's legs.

"I'm just going to use my fingers to help stretch you out some, okay? It does a lot to keep it from being _too_ painful when it's the real thing," Derek explains, coating one of his hands with lube. "So just try and relax."

Will nods as Derek's hand disappears from view. A second later, something cold and wet is pressing at the entrance of his hole, and he reflexively tightens up.

"Relax," Derek coos, using his free hand to rub the top of Will's thigh soothingly. "It's just one finger. This one isn't going to hurt, promise."

Will exhales, forcing himself to unclench. Then, Derek's finger slips easily into his hole.

"See, I told you it wouldn't hurt," Derek says.

"Feels weird," Will mumbles as Derek begins to slowly work the finger in and out.

"Yeah, having something up there when you're not used to it is weird," Derek says. "The weird feeling doesn't really go away, you just get used to it, you know?"

"Sure," Will answers, pretending like he knows what Derek is talking about (which he 100% doesn't—until now, he's never put anything up there).

"I'm going to do a second finger, okay?" Derek tells him. "This one is going to burn a little bit, and I'm also gonna do a little bit of scissoring, so it'll be uncomfortable. Just so you know."

Will nods, sucking in a breath and clenching his jaw in anticipation.

"That's not going to help you relax," Derek points out, and so Will releases his jaw, and the air from his lungs. "I'm telling you, focus on relaxing and breathing normally."

Will feels it when the second finger slips inside him, unlike the first, when he didn't really feel anything at all. It doesn't really hurt—it simply burns, just like Derek told him it would. It still feels weird, but the feeling of fullness from having two fingers inside him is—well, he's not sure he likes it, but he certainly doesn't hate it either.

"You still doing okay up there?" Derek asks.

Will gives him a thumbs up, so Derek starts to slowly pump the two fingers in and out of Will's hole. The friction feels kind of good, and he's starting to enjoy the sensation when Derek stops. Will grimaces. "Are going to put another finger in there?"

"Not yet," Derek answers, giving Will a cock-eyed grin that makes him more than a little curious. "Feel this," he says.

Will feels his fingers move, and he's not sure what Derek's doing. He then feels a short, weird pressure in his abdomen just below his cock before a wave of heat hits him, his whole body flushing as he feels a strong twinge of arousal in his dick.

"You like that?" Derek questions with a smirk.

Will almost rolls his eyes because of course he liked that. All Derek had to do was look at his dick. It had softened up, but now it was starting to get hard again. "Um, _yeah_ ," he responds.

"Cool," Derek says nonchalantly, and then does it again.

"Oh my _God_ , what are you doing?" Will half-moans.

"It's called your prostate man," Derek elaborates. "Some people call it the G-spot too. But basically like, it totally intensifies your orgasms. That's why some people like bottoming so much. With the right guy hitting that spot, it's kind of like, pure ecstasy. Or maybe not quite that, but if the guy knows what he's doing it'll feel great, dude."

"Oh," Will says, not sure how else to respond to that.

"Anyway, probably should do one more finger, hmm?" Derek continues. "Then we'll get on to the main event."

"That's a weird way of putting it," Will replies.

"What, would you rather I just said 'oh, and then I'm going to put my dick in your ass?'" Derek queries.

Will tries to swat at him with his foot. "Just keep going you asshole," he says.

"With pleasure—for you, hopefully," Derek says.

"I'm this close to changing my mind," Will retorts.

"Alright, alright, just—"

"Don't you dare fucking say it."

"Okay, I'm done," Derek says, giggling slightly as he speaks. "I'm doing the third one now, and it's probably going to hurt, so just relax and give yourself time to adjust, okay?"

Will nods, remembering not to clench his teeth like before and trying to keep his breathing even, even as he starts to get anxious again.

Derek's third finger slides in next to the other two, and Will lets out a little whine because, yeah, it does hurt.

"Shh, babe, it's okay," Derek murmurs softly. "Just try to relax."

"It hurts," Will responds.

Derek nods. "Yeah, but the faster you relax, the less it hurts."

Will breathes slowly, focusing on unclenching the sphincter around Derek's fingers. After a minute, it stops hurting, and the fingers are just there, filling him up like before. It hurts when Derek starts to move the fingers, and Will tightens up again.

"Yeah, I know," Derek says. "Keep trying to relax, and tell me when it stops hurting."

About a minute or two later, his asshole stops throbbing so much, and the pain isn't much more than a dull ache, so he taps Derek's arm. "It's—I feel okay now," he informs him.

"Okay," Derek says. A second later, he pulls out his fingers, and the feeling of emptiness isn't exactly a welcome one for Will. There's the sound of a tear, crinkling of a wrapper, and then a couple squirts. Derek moves so his body is mostly covering Will's, though he's keeping himself propped up on his arms. "This—it's not going to feel nice, okay? I'm going to go slow, but it's—just please tell me right away if it feels like too much?"

Will squeezes his eyes shut as he nods. Derek begins peppering kisses to his cheeks, forehead, mouth, nose—everywhere, just as something that feels like a very large finger presses up against his asshole. Will tries to focus on his breathing, on staying relaxed, and on the sensation of the gentle kisses being pressed to his face, but it's not enough to keep him from gasping harshly when the head of Derek's cock goes inside him.

" _Fuck,"_ he curses under his breath.

Derek catches his lips in a deeper kiss, but it's not enough to keep him distracted from the stinging, burning sensation as Derek slowly pushes deeper into him.

" _Ow_ , fuck, just—stop for a second," Will hisses.

"We can stop right now," Derek says, but Will shakes his head.

"No I—I just need a minute, okay?" he replies, his voice strained.

"I hope you realize how much it means to me that you opened up and let yourself be vulnerable to me like this," Derek says, resting his forehead softly on Will's. "But you don't have to prove anything to me. If don't want to keep going, we don't have to. We can stop right now, and it won't change anything and I won't think any less of you. I know how much you love me, and what we do or don't do in bed doesn't change what I know. Or that I love you too."

"Derek, I know you're okay with stopping," Will points out. "You didn't have to convince me. But I don't want to stop, I just needed a fucking break, for like ten seconds."

"Oh."

"So, you know, now that you've finished that lovely monologue, how about you—I don't know, actually do something with that dick in my ass," Will states, wiggling his hips slightly.

Derek's inhale isn't quite a gasp, but it's sharper in response to the motion of Will's hips. "Alright, but it's—"

"Yes, it's going to hurt," Will says, rolling his eyes. "I've read up about what this is like. It hurts, but the more you get into it, the less it will hurt. Derek, you've done a great job of taking care of me so far and making sure that I'm comfortable, but this part—we can't do this without a little pain, at least, not right now. So just _go_. I'll adjust, and then I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck! Yes, I'm sure! Just do it!" Will barks commandingly.

Derek pushes into him the rest of the way, and yeah, it fucking hurts. Will winces, and for a second, Derek looks like he's going to stop, but Will punches his bicep, and Derek keeps going.

He doesn't go very fast, thrusting in and out of Will at a deliberate pace. It's a little frustrating and Will wants him to go faster, but he's not going to make him go faster— _slow, romantic_ —that was how Derek wanted this to be, and it seems that he still hasn't lost sight of that.

Will runs his hands up and down Derek's sides, brushing them over his chest and abs, and across his broad shoulders, watching Derek's face as he grunts and groans with each heavy thrust. It still doesn't feel great physically—the pressure he's feeling with each thrust isn't exactly pleasant (though it's not terrible either?). But seeing Derek like this—his expression no longer guarded, every part of it no longer carefully arranged—instead showing exactly what he's feeling, he feels closer to him than he has before. Also, there's the way they're joined together—they're literally one being right now, attached at the—dick? Okay, it's a little weird to think of it that way, but at the same time, Will feels more emotional about that than he expected to be.

"I love you," he whispers in response to all the overwhelming emotions swirling in his chest.

Derek stops his thrusting and bends down, kissing Will softly. "I love you too," he mumbles, his lips brushing up against Will's as he speaks. After a long moment looking into each other's eyes as they pant somewhat laboriously, Derek readjusts himself and starts pumping his hips again.

He's pushing in at a different angle than he was at first, and as a result, he's hitting—or at least, coming into contact with that spot he was talking about before. It doesn't feel the same as it did before, as there's a twinge of discomfort each time Derek rams into the spot. But it still feels really good, and after a few good thrusts, the discomfort goes away, turning only to waves of pleasure rippling through his body each time.

"Yeah, just like that," Will says breathlessly. Derek smirks, and starts thrusting, maybe a little faster than before, and definitely harder. "Oh _fuck_ ," he says, pawing at Derek's shoulder with one hand as he reaches down and wraps the other around his cock.

Derek swats it away though, replacing it with his own hand, and he being to jerkily stroke Will's cock. Will is suddenly very close, coming up to the edge of his orgasm so quickly it seems like it came out of nowhere. "Derek, I'm—" he starts to say, but then Derek flicks his wrist and he's gone.

Will's orgasm hits him hard, so intense and white-hot that his vision literally whites out. He shouts, Derek's name on his tongue as cum squirts out of his dick, spilling all over his chest and abs. Derek continues to stroke him through it, though his thrusts slow to a standstill.

When he finally comes down, Derek has pulled out and is lying down next him. Now that he's no longer riding the high of his orgasm, he can feel his asshole throbbing insistently and painfully, and he tries very hard not to move his legs an inch, lest he make it hurt worse.

"Did you?" Will asks, his voice airy as he breathes heavily.

Derek nods. "Yeah, when you did, the way you were clenching around me did it," he says.

"Good," Will says. His eyes are half-lidded, and his whole body feels tired and heavy. "Cause I'm—" he pauses to yawn. "I don't think I can move. My ass hurts and I'm really tired."

"Yeah, the first time is—a lot," Derek says, pulling a blanket up over their bodies before wrapping Will up in a hug. "I think a nap is a good idea."

"Wait," Will says, opening his eyes and shifting so they're face to face. "Did you like your present?"

Derek cranes forward and kisses Will. "It was amazing and unforgettable, babe. Thank you," he murmurs.

"And thanks for being gentle," Will replies, yawning again. "It uh—I think I like that. And maybe we can do it again? Not like tomorrow, but soon?"

"Whenever you want," Derek says, stroking Will's cheek gently with the back of his hand. "But there's no pressure to ever do that again. You can tell me if you didn't like it, you know that, right?"

"God, you're so considerate. It's kind of annoying," Will says, chuckling softly. "But no, I really did like that. You're really—well, I don't know what the right words are but like, happy birthday and happy Valentine's Day. I love you."

"I know what you're trying to say," Derek replies. "I love you too. Now let's nap."

Will nods, pecking Derek before rolling over and sprawling out on top of Derek's body. Before long, Will is snoring into the crook of Derek's neck. Derek wants to freeze this moment in time. He wants to always feel this close to and be this in love with Will. He knows that he will, but there's something about this moment that feels special and unrepeatable. They had sex for the first time, and Will thinks that was his present. But to Derek, Will himself is a present that he gets to open to a new surprise each and every day. And this surprise was an especially meaningful one, one that Derek will never forget.


	18. When I Look to the Future (I See You)

**Summary:** _As he allows his mind to wander, to daydream and start to construct a picture of the coming years, he realizes it's a startlingly familiar image. It's Derek sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling in one of his many leather-bound journals while Will cooks dinner. It's Derek lying next to Will in a massively oversized (and comfortable) bed, peering down at a book through reading glasses, the light of the lamp next to their bed glinting off his hair and illuminating the touches of silver in it. It's Derek on the couch, having fallen asleep while waiting for Will to come home from work late._

 **A/N:** Look who stopped being a shit and actually wrote something! Also this technically takes place in the same universe as _Loving Myself (Because of Loving You)_. Also Dex has two dads (though it's only briefly mentioned) because that's the way I like it (I have a whole document of notes about it message me on Tumblr (username benjji2795) if you want to hear it bc it'll likely never get written into fic). Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

The game clock hits all zeros. The buzzer sounds, barely audible over the roar of the crowd. Will drops his stick, throwing his hands up triumphantly. The game is over, and _they've won_. In his and Derek's and Chris' last college hockey game, they've managed to win the fucking NCAA Ice Hockey championship.

Will is elated—he's done what neither Jack, Adam and Justin, or Eric were able to do—captained Samwell to its first ever national championship. No disrespect to his predecessors and former captains, because they were all incredible captains in their own right. Will just happened to be the one lucky enough to put it all together. Building off past success, he got a few more pieces added to the team in recruiting, and in his senior year, Chris had become the best goalie in the entire country. Add in a couple of bounces of the puck that went their way, and they won the title. Will may have been the captain to bring the trophy home, but he'll be the first to admit that his captaincy didn't have much to do with the season they had.

That being said, Will certainly had a lot do with winning the title game. He had an assist on a goal by Whiskey to help tie the game with 30.7 seconds left in the second period, and a goal on a breakaway with 6:57 left in the third to take a 2-1 lead that they ended up not relinquishing. If not for Chris' truly spectacular night (33 saves on 34 shots, including a couple of jaw-droppers), Will would be the MVP of the title game. Not that Will cares about that—he's simply ecstatic that they won.

Derek is the first one to skate over, engulfing him as they crash backward into the boards. Will turns his head to look at him and finds that Derek is smiling so widely that his face might split in half. If not for their visors and face masks, Will would kiss him right now. Instead, he settles for shouting, "We won!"

"Yeah, _you_ did! Congrats babe!" Derek yells back at him.

"I couldn't have done it without you!" Will replies.

Derek opens his mouth to respond, but the rest of the team has finally caught up to them, creating a whole team celly, everyone whooping and hollering their congratulations at each other. Derek's words get drowned out by the din, but it's okay. Will grins and knocks their helmets together. There will be plenty of time to talk later back at the hotel. Right now, it's time to be presented the trophy and lift it up for the whole country to see—because Samwell University is the national champion.

* * *

Their grins still haven't dimmed by the time he and Derek walk into their hotel room an hour and a half later. Will flicks on the light switch, turning on the lamps scattered around their room, bathing it in a soft, yellow glow. Derek drops their bags on the floor near the closet area, then turns and places his hands on Will's hips, drawing him close.

Will exhales contentedly, winding his arms around Derek's neck and softly knocking their foreheads together. They don't have long to stand here like this, just the two of them, quietly enjoying being close to each other—most of the graduated players from the past three years came to the game and are taking them out to celebrate soon. But Will wants to savor every second of this.

"You were incredible," Derek says softly, so much pride in his voice that Will can barely stand it. "I'm so proud. My boyfriend, the captain, won us the championship."

Will blushes and turns to bury his head in the crook of Derek's neck. "It wasn't all me," he mumbles. "I had a lot of help."

"Will, babe," Derek says, his hand rubbing slow circles in Will's back. "I was standing right there when you were being interviewed. Your goal was unassisted. You scored the winning goal _all by yourself_."

"That's not what I mean," Will replies, pulling his face out of Derek's neck.

"What do you mean then?" Derek asks. Will's amber eyes meet Derek's green eyes and his stomach erupts with butterflies. Three years he's been in love with Derek, and he still reacts intensely to deeply intimate moments like this as if he had just fallen in love.

"I mean—without you—without us, I would've never—I'm not—I owe where I am mostly to you. Everything we've shared the last three years—and maybe even a few things from when we wanted to kill each other—has changed me. I've grown so much because of you and I just—"

Will stops, and something he doesn't know how to say hangs there at the tip of his tongue. He keeps his eyes locked on Derek, trying to work through what it is, and Derek waits patiently. He knows that Will isn't always the best at communicating his feelings with words, and that sometimes it takes him a while to say what he's feeling.

Still, after a minute, Will has nothing. So many feelings are swirling around in his head that it's impossible to pick out one to articulate. There's a sense of satisfaction at what they've accomplished, sadness that this was their last college hockey game, a sense of comfort and contentedness about being here in this moment, and a feeling of love for Derek that's too strong, that defies any of the words that Will knows.

"I love you," he finally chokes out, though it's incomplete, falling far short of communicating what he wants Derek to know.

Derek looks at him like he completely understands what's going through Will's head. "I love you too," he says, then kisses him softly.

It's at this moment that Will realizes that he's started crying and he's not even sure why. Derek notices too, and he doesn't say anything, he just pulls Will over to the bed, lying on his back and pulling Will on top of him. Will puts his face in Derek's chest, and Derek starts to slowly card his fingers through Will's hair.

"You alright babe?" Derek whispers.

Will isn't sure how to answer. He's alright—but he's also not. It doesn't make sense, but then again, since he doesn't seem to be able to make sense of anything happening in his mind at the moment, it's not a surprising conclusion to come to.

"I—I'm just—I'm feeling so much right now," Will manages to sputter out. "I don't—I just—I love you so much but I can't—there aren't—"

"You can't find the words," Derek finishes for him. "Shh, it's okay. I get it."

"But how can you get it if I can't figure out—if I don't know how to say it?" Will questions with a sniffle.

"Because I just do," Derek says, smiling softly. "We poets, we just have a sense of the unsayable."

Will giggles wetly. "That was so pretentious. I should punch you."

"C'mon babe, we were having a moment and you ruined it," Derek says, a hint of fond exasperation in his voice.

"You say that like you're not used to me doing that," Will says, rolling off of Derek and shuffling around so he's lying right next him, their heads even with each other.

"Of course I'm used to it," Derek replies, turning over onto his side. "That doesn't mean I can't be annoyed by it."

"Fine," Will huffs.

Just then, there's a knock at the door. "Yo bros!" someone—it sounds like either Ransom or Holster (or possibly both)—yells. "Everyone is waiting on you two lovebirds! Stop macking and get your asses down here!"

Will instinctively flips them off, even though they can't see him (Derek laughs and says as much—the asshole).

"We don't have to go out with them if you don't want to," Derek says, grabbing Will's hand as they sit up.

"Chowder would probably cry if we didn't," Will points out.

"C's gonna cry at like, two beers in anyway," Derek shrugs.

"I bet it won't even take one," Will counters.

"Ooh, a bet." Derek smirks. "What's the prize?"

"Bathroom blowjob?" Will replies.

"I'm fucking in," Derek says.

"Great! You better get ready to suck my dick then," Will snickers.

"In your dreams Dex," Derek scoffs.

"You might want to grab your knee pads, I can't imagine kneeling on tile floors is very comfortable," Will continues, and Derek just rolls his eyes.

"You might want to take your own advice then," Derek replies smartly.

"Trust me, I'm not going to lose," Will says. "I know just want to say to get Chowder crying in three seconds flat."

Derek narrows his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me _bitch_ ," Will replies so sternly and so forcefully that he causes himself to bust out into laughter. It takes a second, but Derek starts laughing with him, and soon they're holding onto each other, trying to stay upright even as they both start doubling over.

"We don't need a bet," Derek says finally, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. "Let's just blow each other in the bathroom because that's fucking _hot_."

"Dude, I love you, you're so right," Will says, grabbing their coats.

"I know," Derek says, smirking so obscenely that Will can't stand it.

"Alright, _Han_ ," he says before kissing it off his face.

Someone bangs on the door again.

"Come on fuckers!" the person (this time it seems to be Shitty) shouts. "I don't care how close you are to coming, get the fuck out here! We're not waiting for your goddamn orgasm any longer!"

Will flushes and shouts back, "We're coming," before adding quietly under his breath, "later. Just not yet."

Derek cackles as he pushes Will toward the door.

* * *

Four days later, Will finds an email in his inbox from an address that he doesn't recognize. That, in and of itself is not horribly unusual because Will is too lazy to set up a decent spam filter. What catches his attention before he immediately sends it to the trash is the at attached to the end of the email address— . This is enough to stop Will in his tracks. His hands are shaking slightly as he taps on it.

 _To: poindexterw2428  
_ _From: Daniel Conner  
_ _Subject: NHL Opportunities_

 _Mr. Poindexter,_

 _Good morning. My name is Dan and I work for the Seattle Schooners scouting department. I was at the NCAA championship game a few days ago, and I was quite impressed by your performance. You showed leadership, poise, and determination in leading your team from behind to win the title. The Schooners have been watching you closely throughout the season, and we believe that you have great potential as a future NHL player on our blue line. I would like to talk to you as soon as is possible, either in person or over the phone, to discuss a possible contract with the team. I can be reached at this email address, or by phone at (206) 684-2365. I look forward to speaking with you soon._

 _Sincerely,  
_ _Dan Conner  
_ _Scout, Seattle Schooners_

Will simply stares at his phone for the next five minutes. He's trying to process what he's just read. The Schooners—a fucking _NHL team_ —are telling him that they're interested in signing him. Will is shocked, surprised, and elated all at the same time. He loves hockey, more than most things in his life, but he's never given serious thought to playing professionally. Though, to be fair, he hasn't given much thought to his future, period. He has bookmarked the pages of a few companies he thinks might be interesting to work for, but that's it.

He's been going through college with the assumption that his competitive hockey career would be over once he graduated. He was good enough to get a scholarship to play college hockey, but he's never thought that he would get good enough to warrant NHL consideration. The plan was to play hockey at Samwell for four years, then get a job and probably continue playing hockey, but not doing anything more serious than an evening rec league.

As Will considers how his entire post-college plan has been turned on its head, his phone buzzes as he receives another email. Will goes back to his inbox and immediately recognizes the sender. It's Georgia Martin, who, as of last year, had been promoted to Jack's GM in Providence.

"Holy _shit_ ," Will mutters under his breath. The fucking GM of the Falconers emailed him—subject line: NHL Future—so probably to say the same thing the Schooners scout did (not that he's in any state of mind to read it right now, he's too shocked). Two teams—two!—are interested in signing him to play hockey beyond the collegiate level.

It's a lot to process, so Will decides to take the rest of the day to think about who he wants to respond to, and what he wants to say.

By the end of the day, when Will finally checks his email again, there are eight more emails from different teams. Half of them, he's not even remotely interested in, but he reads all the emails just to see what they have to say about him (so sue him, he has a bit of an ego).

They're all pretty straightforward—congratulating him on winning the title, saying that they've been scouting him most of the year, and that they think his talent might be a good fit for their organization. The last one he reads, however, is nothing like all the others, and his face flushes in anger as he reads.

 _To: poindexterw4863  
_ _From: Martin Carroll  
_ _Subject: Future beyond college hockey_

 _Dear Mr. Poindexter,_

 _Hello, I work as a scout for the Las Vegas Aces, and I'm contacting you to see if you had considered a future playing in the NHL. I have watched tape on many of your games, as well as attending your semi-final and championship game. Our scouting director and myself believe that you have a lot of talent, and would be able to fill a great need for our organization._

 _However, in doing some preliminary background checking, I have come across a few things that concern me. On social media, you make many references to being "gay" and having a "boyfriend," and I am concerned that this alternative lifestyle doesn't fit with the family values that I believe are core to our organization. In fairness to you though, and because you have considerable talent and potential, I will not make any assumptions, and wait until I speak with you to draw any conclusions about what I have seen._

 _I look forward to speaking with you soon,  
_ _Martin Carroll  
_ _Scouting, Las Vegas Aces  
_ _(702) 542-6544_

Will finds himself staring at his phone, unable to form a thought that doesn't involve at least double-digit usages of expletives. Not one of the other scouts made any mention of his sexuality or Derek, because as far as he knew, it wasn't supposed to be a problem. The NHL and most of the individual teams had begun aggressively supporting You Can Play throughout the '16-'17 season and had continued to do so through the '17-'18 season. What was the point of that if teams were just going to turn around and use players' sexualities to make decisions about who sign?

The Falconers have the league's only out players—Jack, Tater, Snowy and Parse—but Will had assumed that was only coincidence. Queer people tend to flock (just look at the Samwell Men's Hockey Team), so he figured it was that, not a conscious policy by the Falconers to attract queer players (or a conscious policy by other teams to reject them).

There was only way to find out for sure which it was.

Will closes out his email and pulls up his contacts, tapping on one and pressing the device to his ear, trying to tamp down on his dueling emotions of rage, fear and growing disappointment.

"Um, hello?"

"Hey Jack."

"Dex? Why are you calling me?" Jack asks.

"I have a question. About NHL things," Will says. "Just like, something I need to consider as I decide which scouts to talk to."

"Euh, sure? I don't know how much I'll be able to answer, but I'll try," Jack replies questioningly.

"Why are the only openly out players on the Falconers?" Will inquires. "Is it just coincidence? Or did you all choose to be there because you felt that like, queer connection, or did the Falconers like actively seek you guys out? Because I've been getting emails from scouts most of the day and I just—one of them mentioned concern about my 'alternative' lifestyle and I need to know if it's just him and that team or—"

"—if he was just the only one to say it," Jack finishes.

"Yeah."

Jack exhales, sighing softly. "Which team was the scout from?"

"The Aces," Will answers.

"I'm not surprised," Jack replies flatly.

"What? Why aren't you surprised?" Will responds, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, unsure as to why the Aces are so special that Jack can give that reply so automatically and without any kind of shock evident in his voice.

Jack is quiet for a moment, and Will can almost see the pained expression on his face as he figures out what to say. "I don't know the whole story and—there might be rumors but I don't know what you've heard and—from what little Parse has said to me, it seems like his sexuality was largely the reason he got traded here," he says.

"He got traded because he's gay and the Aces are homophobic."

"Yeah. Apparently he was constantly clashing with management and—remember when he punched his teammate? That was the last straw," Jack says.

"Oh." Will pauses for a moment before speaking again, considering what that means. Obviously, he's going to have to give the Aces a "thanks but no thanks" response, but that doesn't tell him much about anyone else. "How am I supposed to know who's safe to talk to then?"

"I'm not sure what to tell you Dex," Jack says, sighing again. "It's—some teams are working on it—the league is still way behind the rest of the world."

"But it's getting better right?" Will questions, fighting off the sinking feeling in his chest he's experiencing at Jack's words. "You know, with all the stuff _You Can Play_ is doing? What about all the teams that are doing 'Hockey is for Everyone' nights and using pride tape and all that?"

"Dex," Jack says expectantly. "I _know_ that you know that most of the teams are doing it to avoid the negative publicity that comes with not participating."

Will slumps back into his desk chair. "I know," he answers.

"You'd be fine if you picked the Falcs, and maybe the Sabres or Bruins but—I don't know. I'm not familiar enough with all the teams to say. You're going to have to be very, _very_ careful if you talk to anyone besides the Falcs," Jack says.

"So if I decide I don't want to play with the Falcs, and I talk to other teams and they tell me they have a problem with Nursey being my boyfriend—what do I do?" Will asks, not necessarily because he's opposed to playing in Providence, but because he wants to explore all his options.

"There isn't much you can do," Jack answers, his voice a little sad. "The NHL doesn't have any anti-discrimination rules regarding sexuality. You could probably play the PR card—just because the NHL doesn't have any rules about it doesn't mean it wouldn't look bad to the public."

"But that's a he-said she-said thing. Who would believe me?"

"I don't know," Jack answers. "Enough people might that it could make a team balk at withdrawing an offer. Otherwise your only option is to walk away from that team."

Will frowns. "Those aren't great options."

"As a college graduate just entering the league, this is almost a no-win situation," Jack explains. "All I can say is that your best hope of ending up somewhere safe is going to the Falconers. Are they one of the teams that sent you an email?"

"Yeah. Georgia emailed me," Will replies.

"She contacted you personally?"

"Yeah."

"She only personally contacts players she's really keen on signing. She mostly left that behind when she took over the GM position, but there are still a few guys that she really cares about getting, and you're apparently on of those guys," Jack says.

"Listen Jack, it's not that I'm flattered by that," Will mumbles, running a hand through his hair, "but if I play on the Falconers, I'm probably going to end up being known as 'Jack's former college teammate' you know? Don't get me wrong, you're a great player and I like you and look up to you, but if I'm going to play in the NHL—"

"—you want to make your own mark, not end up in my shadow," Jack says, reaching Will's conclusion for him. "It's okay. I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Jack says. "I—euh, I haven't really told anyone this, but when I was looking at team to sign with, I got offers from both the Pens and Habs. But I never really considered them, because I didn't want to go somewhere where I would be in my papa's shadow. I know I always will be, to a certain extent, but it would've been worse in those places and—I didn't want to deal with that."

"It's not that I would be resentful of it or anything, and it's not that I'm saying I won't sign with Falconers ever, it's just—I want to see if there's another chance out there."

"I'll let George know, if you want me to. She'll keep your spot open while you take a look around, and if you don't find anything you like, you can come here," Jack says.

"That's—yeah, that would be nice. Thanks Jack."

"You're welcome," Jack responds. "And uh—good luck."

"Thanks. Bye," Will says, and then hangs up.

Will's conflicted, unsure of what he's going to do—what he _wants_ to do. He's got the Falconers as a fallback, but he was serious when he said he didn't want to play in Jack's shadow, but playing in the NHL is playing in the NHL. And maybe Jack is wrong—some high-caliber teams had contacted him, and he would love to play for them. Maybe when he talks to them, he'll find they're more accepting than Jack expects them to be.

But maybe Jack is right, and Will is terrified of getting trapped in a situation with a team that doesn't accept him. It's not fair to him, and it's certainly not fair to Derek. If Will trusts the wrong team and puts them both in that situation, he risks having to let Derek go, because he refuses to let Derek suffer because of his choices.

That's something he's going to have to think on pretty hard. It goes without saying that he will always put their relationship over anything pretty much anything else. The question is how much risk Will is willing to accept, if he's wrong.

But for now, he gets up and plops down on the bed, because Derek came up just shortly after he hung up on Jack, and was making grabby hands at him. He's never claimed to have strong resolve when it comes to his boyfriend, and Derek has (since they started dating) been a calming, stabilizing force for Will when there are too many thoughts rattling around in his head. Maybe some snuggles and a good night's sleep will make the choice clearer to him.

* * *

The next day, while Derek is in class, Will sits down at the desk with a piece of paper and a pen, hoping that by outlining his options, the right one will become clear to him. However, after ten minutes, he has seven options outlined on his paper, and none seem to be jumping out at him:

 _1\. Get a job instead of going into the NHL_

 _2\. Take the known option and sign with the Falconers_

 _3\. Contact the Sabres and Bruins in the hopes that they have interest_

 _4\. Respond to emails and try to gage their stance on LGBTQ+ issues without revealing anything specific_

 _5\. Be straight (ha) forward and respond with specific mentions of LGBTQ+ issues and how it relates_

 _6\. Make it so can't be forced into closet without team looking bad_

 _7\. Other?_

It is, as Jack said, an almost unwinnable situation for him. He would rather not play in Jack's shadow, but he doesn't want to end up back in the closet. And while option #1 seems like an easy way to avoid both those issues, if Will is being honest, he'd much rather play in the NHL.

Not to say that he doesn't enjoy computer programming, it's just—there's far more money that he might be able to make in the NHL. Computer science was a great second option, if hockey dead-ended for him at the end of college, but hockey—Will loves hockey more than anything in the world, besides Derek. In fact, the list of things he cares most about in the world goes Derek, his family, hockey and programming. He would never let the last two take one of the first two away from him, but most especially Derek. Nothing will make him give Derek up, ever.

 _Ever._

The word echoes in Will's mind. The ease with which something so permanent came to him is unexpected, but weirdly, it's not that surprising. Derek is the most important thing in his life, and he has been for almost three years. Ever since that night when, after watching movies in his room with Derek until three in the morning, Will had turned and smiled sleepily at Derek, their eyes locked and he started leaning in, and Derek had cupped his face and kissed him like he'd been waiting for months to do so (spoiler alert: he actually _had_ been waiting for that for months), Will's always had this strange feeling in his stomach about Derek.

At that time, the feeling had been scary and altogether too much, so Will pushed it away and repressed it (something he had always been skilled at). But it resurfaced every so often—like that time in the chilly evening air, when Derek grabbed his hand and they walked into Winter Screw together. Or the first time Derek picked up Dex's youngest cousin Eva and listened intently as she babbled away about the doll her parents had given her for Christmas. Or that night in their hotel room after they'd just won the NCAA title. Or right now.

All along he's had this feeling about Derek—about _them_ —and now, as the future stares Will in the face, when he's finally forced to think about their future (after avoiding it for nearly three years), it's that one word. Ever. With that one word, it all finally clicks for Will.

As he allows his mind to wander, to daydream and start to construct a picture of the coming years, he realizes it's a startlingly familiar image. It's Derek sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling in one of his many leather-bound journals while Will cooks dinner. It's Derek lying next to Will in a massively oversized (and comfortable) bed, peering down at a book through reading glasses, the light of the lamp next to their bed glinting off his hair and illuminating the touches of silver in it. It's Derek on the couch, having fallen asleep while waiting for Will to come home from work late.

Derek is _**it**_ for Will. Derek's there, he's always been there, and he always will be—or at least Will wants him to always be there. Now that he's imagining it, he can't see a future without Derek there.

With all that laid out so plainly for Will to see, a realization hits him so hard he nearly falls off the chair. He wants to marry Derek. Holy _fuck_ , he wants to marry Derek!

Will glances down, catching sight of his list of options—the list that lead him to this moment, and catches sight of the sixth option he wrote down: _make it so can't be forced into closet without team looking bad._ Having Derek as his fiancée or husband would easily accomplish just that, but it's not about the NHL anymore. He wants to marry Derek, and he wants to do it as soon as possible because he loves Derek and can't imagine a future without him by his side, not because he wants to force some NHL team to give him the respect that he, admittedly, rightly deserves.

Will snatches up the list, crumpling it up in a ball and tossing it in the trash before he bolts from their room, taking the steps down two at a time. Now that he knows what he wants, there's not a moment to lose.

* * *

It's not until the next day that Will is prepared to talk to Derek—ready is far from the right word, because he'll never truly be ready for what he's about to do. He stands just outside the closed door to their room, taking slow, measured breaths as he stares at the fading varnish covering the grainy wood of the door.

Derek is inside, probably still sitting at the desk like he was when Will left a half hour ago. He's just having what he (much to Will's never-ending annoyance) calls a "chill brainstorm sesh." Will doesn't have to feel guilty about interrupting him, and he isn't. He's far too anxious to be feeling anything else.

Finally, after a minute—or ten—it's hard to tell since he can't seem to focus on anything other than the rapid beating of his heart, he reaches out and turns the knob, stepping into the room. Derek looks up at the sound, far from focused on his work, and smiles when he sees Will. Will exhales, a bit of the tension leaving his shoulders as he sees the warmth in Derek's face.

" _I can do this_ ," he mentally tells himself as he walks over to Derek.

Derek cocks his head to the side when Will puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, can you uh—I mean, will you sit on the bed with me? I want to talk to you about something," Will says, before hastily tacking on when Derek frowns, "it's nothing bad, I promise."

Derek nods, flips his journal closed and stands up, walking over to the bed. He sits with his back against the wall, his feet just hanging off the edge of the bed. Derek pats his lap, and Will lays down, putting his head in Derek's lap so Derek can run his fingers through his hair while he talks.

Derek begins carding his hands through Will's hair, and Will sighs contentedly. Derek is quiet, his expression open and patient as he waits for Will to work up the courage to start talking.

Will bites his lip. "It's—well, it's about the future. My—fuck, I mean _our_ future." Derek's body stills momentarily as he tenses up, so Will quickly barrels on. "I uh—I got contacted by a couple scouts. From NHL teams. Like there are teams interested in signing me."

"Babe, that's great!" Derek says encouragingly, though there's a hint of hesitancy in his voice, as if he's not totally sure that it _is_ a great thing.

"Um, well—it was great, at first," Will continues to explain. "But then I got an email from uh—one of the Aces scouts."

"Oh?" Derek says, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Yeah, they—they have a problem with my—they don't like that I'm gay. And that have a boyfriend. That I talk about on social media. A lot," Will blurts out, bringing a hand up to nervously fiddle with the hem of Derek's shirt.

"Oh. Shit," Derek mutters. "Are you sure that—"

"It's just that one guy?" Will completes, anticipating Derek's question before he can even finish it (a skill that comes pretty easily after nearly three years together). Derek nods.

"That's what I was thinking, but I called Jack just to be sure, you know? And he uh—he told me that other than the Falcs and maybe one or two other teams—well, that it might be the same thing," Will says. "He didn't know for sure, but he thinks that maybe the Aces were the only ones bold enough to bring it up at the very start. Apparently they feel like they got burned or something by Parse."

"So? It's still bullshit," Derek says, his voice flat—which is only something he does when he's dangerously angry or irritated and afraid of saying something overly venomous. Knowing this, Will presses on.

"Yeah, but there's not anything I can do about it. Jack said the only teams he can be like, mostly sure about are the Falcs, Bruins and Sabres. But the Falcs are the only team that contacted me and I—I'm not sure about signing with them."

"Because of Jack," Derek supplies.

"Not Jack specifically, just his shadow. I don't want to be Jack's old college teammate, I want to be William Poindexter, defenseman," Will explains.

Derek hums, nodding his head understandingly. "So what are you going to do?" Derek asks. "Are you going to reach out to one of those other safe teams or just not play in the NHL?"

"Uh—neither."

Derek furrows his brow, but doesn't say anything.

"So while I was considering my options, I came up with one that I kind of—well, no, that's not right. I came up with this option and while I was just thinking—about the future in general and all that, I had this realization. You uh—do you remember the night of the championship? When I was like, overwhelmed and crying and shit?" Will pauses to wait for Derek to respond, which he does with a nod.

"I was feeling a lot of things and it was just like, hard to figure it all out. You know I'm not really very good with feelings so I just couldn't, like process it all. But then I was thinking about the future and us and I kinda just, suddenly got it, you know? It's a feeling that's always been there, like ever since we kissed the first time."

Will sits up, turning around and sitting cross-legged next to Derek. He gently slides one of Derek's hands out of his hair and grips it tightly, forcing himself to look Derek in the eye despite the strong urge to just close his own.

" I was just—I started thinking about it and when I was seeing the future, like five, ten, twenty years down the road, you were always there, and I just realized that that feeling was just like, me, feeling like I always want you to be right by my side, with me for like, forever."

Derek inhales sharply, his eyes going wide.

"And there's going to be a lot that happens in the next month or so. Exams, graduation, all that shit. People are going to be moving and moving on and I just—I want to make sure you want to come with me, wherever I go—or the other way around, if that's how it works out. But I—I want us to be committed to working through this together and being a team no matter how the future turns out."

"You know I'm not good with words and like, this is probably already terrible and I've used 'like' and 'just' too many times and I'm guessing this is definitely not what you imagined but I just—as soon as I realized what all that meant and what I wanted for us, I just couldn't wait?

Will pauses, digging into his pocket and pulling out the small felt box that he picked up before he came up to the attic. "So um—Derek, will you marry me?" he asks, opening up the box to reveal two simple, white gold bands.

Will holds his breath as he watches Derek's face, waiting for a reaction, an answer—anything that will tell him that this wasn't a mistake. There are tears starting to streak down Derek's face, and while Will has seen Derek without his "chill" façade a lot since they started dating, he's never seen him quite like this.

"Derek?" Will says, because an eternity (30 seconds, really) has passed, and he still doesn't know what Derek's reaction means, how he feels about Will's sudden proposal.

"Oh my God, I'm— _fuck_ , I wasn't expecting anything like this," Derek replies wetly.

"I—shit, I should've known—" Will starts, something curling in his stomach tight and sick and—

"No, no!" Derek cuts him off hurriedly. "It's um—it was surprising but it's—it's a good one. I—of course I'll marry you!"

Will exhales in relief. "I—thank God. I thought for a second there you were going to say no!" he says, wiping at his own eyes as he notices that he's started crying too.

"No, I would've never—if you had asked me even two years ago, I would've said yes," Derek says, pulling Will into a tight embrace.

"But we hadn't—"

"I know, but it was the same for me, I just had that feeling right from the beginning," Derek explains. "The difference is that it didn't take me as long to figure out what it meant."

Will snorts. "Well we can't all be perfectly in touch with our feelings like you."

"Don't worry, I have my moments," Derek retorts playfully.

"Yeah, like once every three years," Will responds and they both laugh because they both know Derek isn't as good with his feelings as he'd like to claim he is.

"So, Poindexter, are you going to put that ring on me, or am I just supposed to admire its beauty from the box?" Derek asks, earning him a slight shove from Will.

"I was getting there!" Will says, pulling a ring from the box (it doesn't matter which one—they conveniently have the same sized fingers, and therefore the same ring size). "They're um—well, they're not fancy. I had a little bit of money saved up but even then you know that I don't have the kind of money to get anything other than—well, I got them engraved on the inside."

"Really?" Derek questions, grabbing the other ring, holding it up as he squints at it, even though he won't be able to read it unless he puts on his glasses.

"Yeah. I mean, it just says 'Nursey + Dex' and the date we met," Will says, shrugging.

"The date we met? You mean the tour?" Derek asks, and Will nods. "Why that day? Why not the day we first kissed?"

Dex flushes, looking down and fiddling with the box in his hand. "I've never admitted this to anyone but—meeting you on that tour—well, really just seeing you, since we didn't talk much that day—that was the reason I chose Samwell over some place closer to home. So if—if not for that, this— _us_ —wouldn't be a thing. We're spending the rest of our lives together because of that tour."

"That's—so embarrassing. And yet so sweet," Derek says.

"Shuddup," Will mumbles.

Derek gently grabs Will's chin, lifting his head and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. "No really, that's so thoughtful. I love it."

"Okay, now who's keeping me from putting the ring on?" Will chirps, mostly to keep from kissing Derek until he can't breathe (because if that happens, one thing will lead to another and—well, there are people in the Haus).

"Alright, fine, I'll stop and let you do it now," Derek huffs, putting out his hand for Will. Will slips the ring on, then offers his hand to Derek.

"You're planning on wearing a ring before the wedding?" Derek questions.

"Really, you think I want to ascribe to that hetero bullshit?" Will scoffs. "I've never understood why guys didn't wear their own sign of commitment prior to their wedding. I mean, they're just as engaged as their fiancée, why aren't they wearing a ring too?"

"You've come a long way from when I first met you, William Jacob Poindexter," Derek says with a grin.

As Derek is putting the ring on Will's finger, they can hear the sounds of footsteps pounding on the hallway floor outside their room, followed by Chris shouting "Bitty!"

"They're here already?" Will questions.

"I'm sure Bitty wanted to get started on baking as early as possible," Derek says with a dreamy, toothy grin.

"It's not like he has _that_ many to bake for," Will says. "It's just going to be Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, Holster, Ollie, Wicks and okay I see your point."

Their closest former teammates are coming to the Haus for the official championship "kegster extravaganza" (Holster chose the name because "we've gotta distinguish it from Epikestger _somehow_ "). Listening to the cacophony suddenly drifting up the stairs, Will is struck with yet another sudden and incredibly impulsive idea (that's two in two days which—that _has_ to be some kind of personal record).

"Hey Derek, this is going to sound absolutely crazy but—well, you know all of our friends are going to be here soon and we've both just said that we've known for a while that we're meant to be together forever and I just—I don't want to wait, and everything seems aligned, like now is the perfect time," Will spouts rapidly before he can rationalize his way out of doing this.

"The perfect time for what?" Derek asks, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

"Getting married," Will answers.

Derek turns his head, looking toward the door, in the direction of all the noise as more people arrive and join in greeting everyone. "All of our best friends are going to be here," he murmurs mostly to himself, before turning his gaze back to Will. "Fuck, you're right, this is the perfect time. Let's do it. Let's go down to the courthouse and get married."

"Great. Great, fuck, okay, I'll go downstairs and tell the guys what's happening, you pick out something for us to wear?"

"Yeah!" Derek agrees, jumping up and bounding over to their closet. "Wait, what are you supposed to wear for a courthouse wedding?"

"I don't know," Will answers. "Just something nice, I guess? Not like _tux_ nice, but like, _dress shirt and tie_ nice maybe?"

Derek silently mulls his suggestion over before nodding. "Yeah, okay. Now go and tell everyone. And try not to let them suffocate you while they're hugging you. I want my fiancée alive for the wedding."

Will chuckles and shrugs. "I'll try, but between Chowder and Bitty, I make no promises."

"What if you just shouted it from the top of the stairs?" Derek suggests.

"They might all try to come up the stairs at once, and I don't know if those poor things can take ten hockey boys," Will responds. "And if they break the stairs, then how will we get out of the Haus to get married in the first place?"

"We can figure it out. I mean, it's you or the stairs babe," Derek replies jokingly.

Will huffs an overdramatic sigh. "Fine, but if they do break them, you're going to have to help me fix them," Will says.

"The point of my suggestion was to avoid bodily injury," Derek grumbles.

Will laughs and shakes his head as he steps out of the room, padding the few steps to the top of the stairs.

"Hey!" he yells over the sounds of a mass of hockey boys all trying to greet each other at the same time. He has to repeat himself a few times, but eventually every one notices him and quiets down.

The last one to stop talking is Chris, who shouts excitedly, "Dex look! Everyone is here already!"

"Good," Will answers. "Because uh—"

" _Wait_ , hold the fuck up," Adam says, quickly taking advantage of Will's momentary hesitation. "What is that on your hand?"

"I was getting to that," Will responds, slightly annoyed. "It's a ring—"

"Why do you—" Justin starts to interrupt, but Will talks over him.

"—and I'm wearing a ring—"

"OH MY GOD DEREK ASKED YOU TO MARRY HIM!" Chris all but shrieks.

"He did _not_ ," Will corrects forcefully.

"Wait, if he didn't, then why are you—"

"Because _I_ asked him to marry _me_ ," Will continues.

"Brah—"

"And we're going down to the courthouse in like, an hour to do it," Will finally finishes, and God he loves these guys, they're like his family, but it's hard to tell them any significant news because they love to jump to their conclusions.

"Good _Lord_ , I need to start baking immediately!" Eric says. "What kind of pie do y'all want?"

"Uh—"

"Never mind, I'm going to make every kind!" Eric interrupts before disappearing into the kitchen.

"How is he going to have time to make all those pies?" Will asks, and Jack just shrugs.

"I don't question it anymore."

"Bro, can we be flower girls?" Justin and Adam ask.

"Uh—" Will frowns, before deciding it's not worth it to question why they would want to. "You know what, why not?"

"Sweet!" they reply, turning to give each other a high five.

"I can take pictures," Jack offers.

"Sure," Will says, grateful that for the quick diversion from whatever plans Adam and Justin might be cooking up. "I guess that means that Shitty and Chowder will be our—whatever you call them."

"Ooh, they're called attendants!" Chris supplies excitedly. "At least, that's what Cait and I are going to call them at our wedding!"

"Yeah, that's it. And uh, everyone else—you should come and watch, okay? I mean, you don't have to but—"

"There will be no pie anyone who doesn't go!" Eric shouts from the kitchen.

"Yeah, let's go with that," Will says, because arguing with Eric right now would probably be useless. "We're leaving here in an hour then, I guess."

There's a brief moment where everyone is nodding in acknowledgement, and then the group explodes into chaos. Will turns and sprints back to his and Derek's room before the sudden flurry of activity can swallow him up.

Will shuts the door and leans up against it heavily.

"Sounds like it didn't go too badly," Derek says, picking a couple hangers up off the bed.

"As well as could be expected, I guess," Will answers.

"That's chill," Derek says and Will doesn't bother to hold back his eye roll; Derek, for his part, doesn't react. Derek holds up the clothes so Will can examine them. "What do you think of this?"

"For you or for me?"

Derek shrugs. "Doesn't matter," he says. "But it is just a white shirt, black pants and tie, which I know is more your style so—"

"Yeah, of course," Will says, taking them from Derek.

"You do realize my moms are going to kill us for not inviting them to our wedding, right?" Derek asks as Will shucks off his shirt.

"Oh, my dads are going to have a conniption," Will answers, shrugging on the white dress shirt.

" _Conniption_. That's a good word," Derek says.

"It's certainly fancier than saying that they'll throw a fit."

"Have I ever mentioned that I love it when you use fancy words?" Derek says, walking over to tie Will's tie (not that Will needs him to—he just likes it when he does).

"Yes, every time I use a 'fancy' word," Will says, rolling his eyes slightly. "You know, I used to have a very no-frills vocabulary before you came along. Now I use big, fancy words all the time."

"It's one of the hazards of dating an English major," Derek says with a shrug. "So, what are we going to do about our parents?"

"I don't know, I'm making this up as I go," Will responds. "I hadn't gotten that far yet."

"William Poindexter, making things up as he goes along? What hashtag personal growth," Derek chirps. Will playfully pushes Derek's face away. "Okay, but for real, there's nothing that says we can't have a quickie courthouse wedding and a traditional ceremony. I like, see it happen all the time on TV."

"This isn't TV," Will says, bending over to tie his shoes (and yes, Derek ogles his ass a bit, and Will definitely smirks to himself). "Do you really think your moms and my dads are going to be happy that we didn't make sure they could be there for the real wedding—you know, the moment it becomes official?"

"It doesn't matter whether they're happy or not," Derek replies, shrugging. "If this is what we want to do, then they'll just have to deal. They can't make us wait if we don't want to."

"Right." Will nods, then stands up to look at Derek, his hands settling on Derek's hips. "Wait, this is _really_ what you want to do, right? You sure you didn't just get caught up in my enthusiasm/emotions?"

"Yeah, I'm really fucking sure," Derek says, lifting his hands to rest them on Will's shoulders. "I love you, and I want to be with you forever, and I don't want to wait to make it official. I want to be Derek Malik Poindexter. I'm ready to be your husband, right now."

Will's heart trips in his chest and his eyes widen. "Did you just—"

"Yeah. Derek Malik Poindexter. I want to take your last name."

Will's mouth opens and closes several times before any words managed to come out. "I thought we were going to hyphenate or I was going to take yours and I—why in the world would you want mine?"

"My mom went back to her maiden name when she divorced my dad, but he never let her change mine," Derek says. "He's a piece of shit, and I don't want any connection to him. My name is the last thing left, besides, you know, the inescapability of genetics."

"But Poindexter is—"

"Dumb? Stupid?" Derek says. "Nah, I don't think so. But even if it was, I'd want your dumb and stupid last name because it's yours."

"Is that—"

"Yeah, it's what I want. Besides, don't you think inflicting the long-ass last name of Nurse-Poindexter on our children would be cruel?" Derek questions with a grin.

"Fuck off, if we were going to hyphenate it would be Poindexter-Nurse and—shit, did you say _our children_?"

"Uh—"

"Hey Cait, did I leave my tie at your place—why do I need it? Dex and Nursey are getting married—yes, right now!"

Will is thankful that the walls of the Haus are thin, because talking about him and Nursey adopting kids together is just too much for his brain right now.

"Yo, C, you can borrow a tie if you need one," Derek says to him, loudly enough that Chris will be able to hear him from his room, and looking as visibly relieved as Will feels.

"But you don't have to dress up!" Will adds.

"Oh, I guess I don't need one," Chris says. "Wait you want to—one second—hey guys, can Cait come to the wedding?"

"Sure, but just her," Will answers. "We don't need to take up the whole courthouse."

"Okay, they say you can come—what should you wear? I don't know, something nice—well, that because you look pretty in everything—yes, even sweatpants!"

"Just tell her to wear jeans and a nice shirt," Derek rapidly cuts in, and Will sighs in relief. They don't need Chris and Caitlin to get into another variation of that "argument" (it's not really an argument, just the two of them tossing compliments back and forth which is—cute, but also gross).

"Are you ready?" Will asks, turning his attention back to Derek and tuning out whatever Chris and Caitlin might be talking about now.

"I've been ready for this day for two years," Derek replies.

"Overachiever," Will mutters, linking hands with Derek as they walk out of their room.

* * *

When they walk into the courthouse, they immediately gain the attention of everyone already in the building. Not that Will is surprised; 11 noisy hockey players and one volleyball player all entering at one time was bound to noticed. They follow the signs to the County Clerk's office (Will looked up that that was the place to get a marriage license).

They crowd into the room as the secretary looks up at them with wide eyes. "C-can I help you?" he asks, his slightly terrified gaze quickly flitting between them.

"Yeah bro, you definitely can!" Adam says, pushing Will and Derek forward before they have the chance to say anything. "These two swawesome dudes want to get married!"

"I'm starting to think bringing them with us was a bad idea," Derek mumbles softly, leaning over to speak into Will's ear.

"Oh, you're just figuring that out?" Will quips.

"Chill," Derek replies, bumping into Will with his shoulder.

"Um, well, you two want to get married?" the secretary questions.

"Uh, duh—" Justin starts to say before Will cuts him off.

"We can speak for ourselves, thanks," Will says.

"We're just trying to be helpful," Adam says, pouting slightly. "That is why you asked to come, wasn't it?"

"To help with the ceremony, not all the paperwork bullshit," Will responds testily.

"Relax Will," Derek says, running a hand up and down Will's arm.

"I think we should wait for them back in the lobby," Jack says, his voice slipping into his familiar, authoritative captain's voice.

"Darlin', I think that's an excellent idea," Eric agrees hurriedly, starting to push the mass of players out of the room (over Adam and Justin's protests).

"Sorry about that," Derek says, turning back to the secretary once they've all left.

"It's um—never mind, just take this and fill it out, follow the signs to courtroom three, have the judge sign it, and then bring it back here. The clerk will also sign it, and then you'll be married," he instructs, all but throwing the license and a pen at them, then adding under his breath, "I don't get paid enough for this."

"He was pleasant, wasn't he?" Derek questions facetiously.

Will shrugs. "Who knows what he has to deal with every day. Besides, we did just try to stuff 12 very large, very loud people into his office."

"I forget that most people aren't used to that kind of chaos," Derek acknowledges.

"Yeah," Will says absently as he looks over the certificate that the secretary handed him. "So we just—follow the signs to courtroom three."

"Yeah, that's what he said," Derek says, even though Will was mostly talking to himself. "And we can fill that out while we wait for the judge."

"But what if there isn't a wait?" Will questions, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Derek shrugs. "Then they can wait for us. Relax babe, it's going to be fine."

Will nods, letting Derek grab his hand and gently tug him toward courtroom three.

"You got it?" Adam asks, perking up when they get there. Derek nods as Will looks around for a pen. "Swawesome!" Adam says as Derek softly presses a pen into Will's hand.

"So what are you going to do for last names?" Chris inquires, bounding up to them energetically. "When Cait and I get married, we're totally going to hyphenate but I know not everyone wants to do that especially since Dex's last name is so long—a"

"The whole last name thing is a bullshit patriarchal concept you should just fucking keep your own," Shitty interjects.

"Boys! Would y'all give them some space!" Eric says, pushing through to the front so he can push Adam, Justin, Chris and Shitty back. "Good Lord, I do not understand why you wanted everyone to come for a courthouse weddin'."

"You're our family," Derek says as Will sits down on the bench directly behind where him and Derek are standing to start filling in their information. "I can't— _we_ can't imagine getting married without everyone here."

"Well, I'm glad you let us come," Eric says, beaming at them. "Gosh, I wonder if the two frogs I met four years ago would believe y'all would end up here?"

"I can't speak for Derek, but I wouldn't have," Will says, standing up now that he's finished filling the license out. "At first, I thought we couldn't have been more different and ill-suited for each other. But now—"

"Now, we know we're a perfect match," Derek finishes, throwing an arm around Will's shoulders and placing a kiss on his temple.

"Sometimes, I still don't understand it. But who am I to question fate?" Eric says, pulling both of them into a hug. "I'm so happy for you two."

"Thanks Bits," Will says. "And uh—by the way, Derek decided that he wants to take my name," he adds, addressing the whole room when Eric pulls away.

"Oh! That's—" Chris says, then stops and frowns. "But wait, if you're not Derek Nurse anymore, does that mean we have to stop calling you Nursey?"

"Nah C, I'm keeping the nickname," Derek says, patting Chris' shoulder in reassurance.

"Okay!" Chris replies, grinning again. "Derek Poindexter. That's still going to take some getting used to!"

"Yeah, but it's totally worth it," Derek answers.

"Next?" a voice calls out over the din.

"Oh, I think that's you!" Chris says, hopping excitedly. "You're getting married, oh my god!"

"Chris, baby, calm down," Caitlyn says, grabbing his hand.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, it's just my two best friends are getting married and I'm so excited!" Chris says.

She continues to talk to Chris as they enter the courtroom, Will and Derek at the head of the group. The nameplate for the judge says that her name is Christine Robertson, though the person sitting on the bench is almost decidedly not her, unless the ancient looking man sitting behind the bench is named Christine.

"So you kids are getting married," he says gruffly as Will steps forward and hands him the completed license.

"Yes, your honor," Derek answers.

"And this isn't some joke or dare?"

"Does it—" Will starts to retort before Derek cuts him off.

"No, your honor. This is totally serious."

"Mmm," the judge hums. "Alright then, if everything on here is in order and correct then—"

"Wait, you're not going to do any kind of ceremony or let us do vows or something?" Will asks as the judge moves to put pen to the certificate Will handed him.

"Kid, in case you haven't guessed, this isn't normally my job," he replies. "I don't know what the words I'm supposed to say are, and I don't care to look it up. If you want that, then come back tomorrow. If you just want to get married, then shut up and let me sign the damn paper."

"I—no, this is fine I was just—never mind," Will says.

The judge continues to eye him for a long second before finally signing the paper and handing it back to him.

There's plenty of whooping and hollering and pats on the back as they leave the courtroom to take the license back up to the clerk's office, and they get plenty of dirty looks, but Will can't find it within himself to care. He's married to Derek, and his family is here with him—this is honestly the best day of his life, and he wouldn't want to change any part of how it's turned out.

* * *

A few days later, after he's finally stopped alternating between admiring his ring and having sex with Derek, Will responds to the scouts who contacted him. Some of them flatly withdraw their interest when he tells him that he has a husband. One or two hem and haw, not go so far as to withdraw their interest, but clearly not pleased by the news. The only positive response is from Georgia Martin, not that Will is at all surprised.

Will shows Derek the email later when they're lying in bed together.

"Huh. So you're telling me that going to sign with the Falcs?" Derek questions.

Will ponders this for a moment, and funnily enough, he doesn't feel any kind of apprehension about signing with them now.

"I guess I am," he answers. "Now that we're married, I don't think it matters where I play hockey or if I play in anyone's shadow. As long as you're there with me, anything else is just a bonus."

"How did I get stuck with such a sappy husband?" Derek says.

"Stuck? Nuh-uh, you don't get to do that, you _chose_ this," Will retorts playfully, gesturing to himself.

Derek's eyes follow his hand, and he smirks. "I chose that dick. As for the rest—I could take it or leave it."

"How did I end up marrying a fucking liar—"

"How dare you—"

" _Oh my God, this is almost worse than the sex!"_


End file.
